


Punzel

by compo67



Series: Punzel Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Adoption, Bottom Jared, Cock Rings, Coming Untouched, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erotic Poetry, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Happy Ending, Kink Exploration, M/M, Mpreg, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Pregnant Sex, Sequel pending, Squirting, Top Jensen Ackles, Young Jared Padalecki, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:12:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 65
Words: 96,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/compo67/pseuds/compo67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is a ride operator at the Storybook Land Canal in Disneyland. His day changes unexpectedly and he ends up outside Goofy's House with a lost little girl and a pregnant coworker. [Completed. Sequel pending.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [授权翻译 punzel by compo67](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3241574) by [sunshinedark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinedark/pseuds/sunshinedark)



> EDIT: Hi! Welcome! This is a fic that started as a one shot and grew into something much bigger. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Fabulous art for this fic can be found here: http://ittakesalotofwater.tumblr.com/post/76931383697/jensen-is-a-ride-operator-at-the-storybook-land. Thank you to KamiDiox for the beautiful art! 
> 
> The theme song to this fic, although it's never incorporated into the fic itself, is "Our Song" by matchbox twenty. Listen to it, that's this fic. <3
> 
> Thanks! A sequel is pending!
> 
> Okay. I know I have a lot going on but I /had/ to write this. This article was the inspiration: www.themeparktourist.com/features/20130917/14414/9-strange-things-cast-members-learn-do.
> 
> One thing led to another and before I knew it, this was written. 
> 
> Short but sweet! And after this I promise I'm back onto my other projects. XD
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated. <3 Thank you!
> 
> (Shoot, forgot to mention, Jensen is 20 and Jared is 18. It's not stated in the fic but here you go.)

A little blond girl is lost by the Storybook Land Canal Boats.

She comes up to Jensen, her pigtails messed up and her face red from crying, repeating a panicked form of her address and phone number one of her parents probably attempted to have her memorize. His coworkers, fellow Cast Members, take one giant step back. Not their problem. Jensen rolls his eyes and assesses the little girl.

She’s wearing a pink jumper and can’t be more than six.

When he picks her up to try and calm her down, and as he wipes the tears off her face with his handkerchief, she tells him she came up to him because he had hair that looked like Rapunzel’s. Jensen has been called many things in life because of his looks and especially because of his damn boy-band looking hair, but Rapunzel is a new one.

“I can’t possibly be Rapunzel,” he informs her, tucking his handkerchief into front pocket of her jumper. “I don’t have a lizard and I don't need to be rescued from a tower... yet.”

This gets her a little calmer.

 

Just as Jensen is about to take her to the nearest Lost Children center on his side of the park, one of the scrawny kids from the Mad Tea Party—fucking scene kids—comes over with a tall, somewhat lanky but very pregnant newbie. They even have the newbie name badge that will help identify them to every Cast Member as a potential weakling. Obviously, no one has bothered to tell the guy to flip his badge over.

“Our lead says you gotta take him,” scrawny scene kid declares to Jensen.

“My lead said nothing about that,” Jensen counters sharply. “Besides, I have to get this kid to LC. Tell Rhonda over there.”

“Hey, he’s your problem now.”

Before Jensen can say anything else, that moron is gone. How can someone so scrawny move so fast? Must be years of dodging suburban cops. God damn scene kids. With a huff, Jensen looks over at the newbie. Jensen started a year ago working in one of the gift shops, then got promoted to his job as a ride operator for both Storybook and Dumbo, which in his opinion, are better than being stuck with the dozens of Mad Tea Party scene kids who worship Lewis Carroll as one of their gods. He knows enough to stay out of trouble, gets along with his managers, and can generally tolerate being surrounded by small children and their neurotic parents all day.

But he does mind being stuck with a clueless newbie _and_ a lost child who clings to his neck like she’s trying to snap it.

“You’re holding her wrong,” newbie blurts out, blushing.

“ _You_ wanna hold her?” Jensen snaps then looks at the newbie’s round belly. “Nevermind.”

“I can hold her just fine.”

Jensen doesn’t argue but when he tries to pass her over—her name is Charisse, he’s figured out by now—she develops the grip of a boa constrictor. Two attempts prove that she. Is. Not. Letting. Go. Period.

“Punzel,” she cries, nearly screeching into his ear. “No! NO!”

“Okay, it’s alright,” Jensen soothes, bouncing her a little. His voice goes soft as she buries her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder, but he’s glaring at the newbie, who just stands there, useless.

Jensen hopes he’s promoted to a character soon, so he won’t have to be stuck in situations like this. Plus, he’ll never have to talk to guests ever again or work more than half an hour at a time and have a better schedule. Newbie eventually snaps to it and shows Jensen how to hold Charisse so she’s no longer slipping and sliding or in danger of being dropped. Jensen grumbles a thank you and starts walking. When he pauses, he sees that newbie is falling behind. Impatiently, he waits. He thought someone so tall would at least walk at the same pace as him.

“Sorry,” the newbie mumbles. “Uh… how far away is Lost Children?”

“Ten minute walk, why?”

Newbie’s hazel eyes dart to the direction of the bathrooms by the Fantasyland Theatre. They’ve barely even left Storybook and the main LC is by Mickey’s Toontown. Jensen sighs mutters for the newbie to just go already. While they wait, Charisse asks Jensen why he frowns so much if he’s Rapunzel. She has hazel eyes, a lot like the newbie’s.

“Because I have to get back to my tower,” Jensen replies.

“You said you didn’t have no tower,” she says, thumping a small fist on his chest.

“Well I’m not in it _now_ ,” he insists. “I have to get back.”

“Is the tall man gonna rescue you when you get back?”

“No.”

She’s not satisfied with his answer and keeps asking why not, why this, why that. He's grateful when the newbie shows up. He attempts to get Charisse off him, but when she feels him go for it, she tenses up and sniffs like she’s about to release the waterworks. Newbie smiles. Jerk.

Once again on their way, newbie introduces himself. His name is Jared. He started working at the Gibson Girl Ice Cream Parlor in Main Street USA eight months ago. He liked the job well enough, but once he got pregnant he couldn’t stand the smell of ice cream, even though now, a few months later, all he wants to do is eat ice cream. Since more food service was out of the question, they transferred him to a ride operator job where he’d still have to stand on his feet all day, but at least he wouldn’t have to do any heavy lifting. He’s hoping for a transfer to one of the theatres where he can sit, or maybe a desk job for a while, but the higher ups didn’t promise him anything.

Jensen listens, but says nothing because he has no opportunity. The guy is a walking lecture, never stops talking. The good thing about that is that Charisse falls asleep to the sound of his voice, somewhat easing her grip on Jensen. As soon as he can wiggle her off him, he hands her to Jared, who holds her awkwardly, but better than Jensen.

“Do you mind if we sit?” Jared asks, panting a little. They’ve just reached Toontown.

“Dude, her parents are probably looking for her, let’s just do it and then you can sit before we get back.”

Jared doesn’t listen. He sits on a bench, squatting before he sits, Charisse still in his arms. Suddenly, he looks flushed and he’s sweating. “I know, I know I just… something hurts.”

“You’re not giving birth, are you?” Jensen asks, panic in his voice.

It surprises him when Jared manages a laugh. “No… I mean, I hope not. I’m only five months along.”

“Oh.”

“I know,” Jared breathes, his free hand on his stomach. “I look big.”

“I didn’t say that,” Jensen snips.

Again, Jared laughs. “It’s okay. They’re triplets.”

There’s a moment of incredibly weird silence between them. Jensen almost wants to shake Charisse just to fill the silence and have something to do. He mutters something about how Jared’s boyfriend must be really proud or something or whatever. It’s not like Jensen _cares_.

“Uh, no, not proud. Not exactly,” Jared answers, this time his tone isn’t cheerful at all. It’s sad.

“He leave you?”

Broad shoulders shrug. “Nah.” Jared fixes Charisse’s lopsided pigtails. “He died.”

Another moment of silence and Jensen wonders how his day got here, standing beside a bench outside of Goofy’s Playhouse with a newbie and a lost child. He mumbles off an, “I’m sorry,” and suggests they start moving or they’ll both be in trouble. He hands Jared his second handkerchief. He learned that early on as a ride operator: carry three handkerchiefs, two for guests, one for yourself. Jared takes it like Jensen’s given him gold.

He also helps Jared up and off the bench, and takes Charisse from him, but he starts walking before Jared can thank him.

 

Lost Children is decorated for the purpose of calming kids down.

The managers swoop in and do their thing, even when Charisse insists that Punzel and the tall man stay. Someone asks Jensen to stick around just to keep her from crying. Jensen shrugs; he won’t complain about getting to stay inside where it’s air conditioned for a while. While her parents are being paged throughout the park, one of the managers brings her a plate of chicken tenders and tater tots.

Charisse shares with Punzel, but Punzel isn't hungry. The tall man eats everything Punzel passes over.

Twenty minutes later, Charisse’s parents show up. They are everything Jensen expected them to be: wealthy, clueless, and shrill. He wonders how a kid as sweet as Charisse was raised by them. He hopes she grows up to be the complete opposite.

He waves goodbye, even though she’s screaming and crying and reaching out for Jensen.

For a brief, fluttering moment, Jensen struggles with the emptiness in his arms. What the fuck is this? A Lifetime movie? He held her for half an hour--tops. He jams his hands into his pockets and looks down at the brightly colored floor. 

Jared sits down near Jensen, on a chair one of the managers brought over just for him. Sighing in relief from sitting, Jared keeps one hand over his middle and the other on the small of his back. Jensen can't imagine carrying that kind of weight all day. And he's no sure why he's so aware of where Jared's hands are.

“I hope the parents who adopt my kids are nothing like that.”

Before he can control his mouth, Jensen asks, “You’re not keeping them?” This is exactly none of his business. Damn Disney nosiness gets the best of his mouth sometimes. The park is huge, but its Cast Members like to keep tabs on everyone. Jensen tries to stay out of it--for the most part.

Leaning back in the chair, Jared gives Jensen a perfect are-you-fucking-kidding-me look. “Really? Can _you_ afford triplets on _your_ Disneyland salary?”

“Well,” Jensen sniffs, “it's the Magic Kingdom, can’t you?”

There’s a laugh that produces dimples and a flashy smile. “Touche. Now… uh… a little help?” Jared holds out his hand.

Jensen should know better, but he takes the outstretched hand and pulls Jared to his feet. They stand a little closer than they should for a moment, and they both start blushing. Jensen lets go first and starts walking; however, he is sure to walk a little slower this time.

“Jensen?”

“What.”

Pushing the door open to step outside again, Jensen wonders, was it this hot outside before? It’s got to be at least eighty-five. “How’d you know my name, anyway?” Jensen asks, holding the door open for Jared, who flicks his name tag as he walks by.

“I can read.”

“Shut up.”

They’re by Fantasyland again when Jared asks his question.

“I, uh, I have a voucher for Gibson Girl. It’s for two street car sundaes and uh… would you wanna have one? Maybe… with me?”

Jensen is never one to turn down free food. And he usually has no problem letting other guys pay for him thinking that a free meal will get them somewhere. But this is different and he can’t figure out why. His first instinct is to say no. He doesn’t date people with kids or expecting kids or involved with kids in some way. Plus, he’s been eyeing one of the Disney Princesses and he’s pretty sure he’ll get the nerve to talk to her one of these days.

He knows the sundaes Jared’s talking about: street car sundaes have two scoops of vanilla ice cream with strawberry topping, whipped cream, cherry, and fudge. For Jared to offer one of the things he has cravings for means a lot.

This doesn’t have to go anywhere.

He can end it right after and let the guy down easy.

Jensen has no obligation to a newbie who will probably be transferred to a cushy job somewhere else in the park within a month. He’s already going to have to talk to his coworkers at Storyland to cover for Jared during pee breaks and get him a god damned chair to sit in when the managers aren’t around. And he might be able to call in a favor from someone and get Jared better shoes and a uniform that fits. While he does that, he should probably make sure they get a cooler so there's always water around. He can hide it behind the desk without a problem. 

“Yeah, sure.”

He receives a flash of a smile and bright, excited eyes.

“Thanks Punzel.” 

This doesn't have to mean anything.


	2. Chapter 2

Jared has a twin brother.

Jensen figures this out after ten minutes of staring at the clone. At first, he tried to imagine how someone went from being the size of a house to lankier than a rake in the span of twelve hours. It's been twelve hours since Jensen last saw his coworker, and he keeps that fact to himself. Storybook Land is also Gossip Land, perpetuated by the evil scene kids across the way, who are inevitably bribed for information by the judgmental old ladies at Casey Jr.

Exactly four times in the three weeks since Jared has joined the Storybook team, gray haired Casey CMs have made snippy comments about Jared’s pregnancy and his unwedded status. However, Jensen knows not to feel sorry for Jared. Someone almost six months pregnant, who stands on their feet all day in eighty degree weather, needs no help in scaring them off. In fact, after the last one Jared bitched out, the Casey Jr. team is remarkably quiet at the Fantasyland Monthly Meeting.

The clone hangs around Storybook, pacing. He's sharper than Jared, with stubble on his face and a scowl mean enough to scare away children and adults. Whatever. Jensen has bigger problems.

Jared is ten minutes late for his shift, and the mice have been whispering that managers will be sweeping along any minute. Jensen can stall for only so long on his best days, and today is not a best day. He snaps at some of his coworkers more than he'd generally care to as he hides the stash of snacks and water bottles behind the front podium.

Finally, real Jared appears, one hand on his lower back and the other in front of him, hovering protectively near his belly as he navigates through crowds of people. He shouts something at the clone, but Jensen can't hear it above the noise of people and nearby rides. Jared approaches Storybook a minute later.

At first, Jensen wants to say something snotty about him having to cover Jared’s ass all the time, but he gets a good look of Jared.

Everyone in Storybook has regulated Jared as the sweeper. For safety reasons, Jared is never a boat guide like Jensen sometimes is, but also because the one time Jensen took him on a ride through the attraction, Jared threw up all over Jensen's shoes.

On good days, they’re paired together to maintain the landscape. Jensen prunes and cleans up the trees while Jared sweeps away debris. Jensen likes this job better than working at Dumbo, which he does whenever he’s given an opportunity to pick up an extra shift or do some overtime. It’s relaxing work, even though Mr. Yamamoto, the head gardener, says Jensen is too quick with the clippers.

Today, they’re assigned to tend to the redwoods. Jensen will do the work while Jared will stand there with a broom, talking about what the babies are doing at that moment. Well, that’s what usually happens. So far, today is a fucking toss up.

“You look like shit,” Jensen announces to Jared when they’re within earshot. He shoves the broom into Jared’s hands and picks up his tool belt and dustpan. They manage to slip on set just when a team of managers arrives. While the managers speak to the other Cast Members and Mr. Yamamoto, they have some time to growl at each other.

“You didn’t tell me you had a twin.” Jensen means to state this casually; instead, it comes out as a hiss. It’s extra hot out today, way too hot for January in Southern California. 

“Jensen, I really don’t need to hear anymore bullshit today, thank you.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to tell you apart?” Jensen mouths off, annoyed with Jared, the sweat in his eyes, and the eyes of the managers on them.

Jared manages to bend forward. Jensen absolutely does not stare at the shape of his mouth. Because while the mouth might be pretty, the words that come out of it aren’t. “Gee, Jensen, I wonder. My brother is the one who _isn’t_ carrying triplets and having migraines and back spasms and stretch marks the sizes of highway medians. My brother _isn’t_ the one throwing up every hour on the hour or getting his ribs kicked from the inside out. My brother _isn’t_ the one so fucking horny he would kill a man, rip his dick off, and masturbate with it. Does that help you, Jensen?”

As soon as it’s possible, Jensen scoots away.

He fears for his life a lot these days.

An hour later, Jensen is in the employee bathroom.

He should be more specific.

He’s in the handicap stall of the men’s employee bathroom, holding Jared’s hair back as Jared pukes for an eternity. Jensen hates the smell and the sound of it, but he can’t complain. He gets to be the helper, while Jared is sweating, trembling, hacking, and full out sobbing.

The only thing that gets Jared to calm down and stop hurling for a second, is when Jensen kneels down beside him. He maintains his left hand in Jared’s hair, holding it back. With his right hand, he rubs slow, wide circles on Jared’s lower back. He applies more pressure when he hears Jared sniff and ease up on crying. There is a moment there, Jensen’s sure of it, even with his cold dead heart, but it’s interrupted by Jared letting out a loud belch, followed by a heave so big, the sound of it hitting the toilet makes Jensen’s stomach roll.

“I’m dying,” Jared wails, holding onto the toilet bowl the way Charisse held onto Jensen’s neck.

“You’re not dying,” Jensen grumbles and reaches up to flush the toilet. He decides not to peak into the bowl. Good decision. “You’re just being a fucking drama queen.”

This is, apparently, the wrong thing to say.

What saves him is also what ruins him.

“Ackles and Padalecki! If you’re going to spend your shift in the bathroom, go home! Clock out and leave.” That’s Jerry. Jerry is the most asshole of the managers. He only works at Storyland twice a week though, so Jensen’s not too concerned, but Jared becomes a mess of nerves.

As Jensen lifts him up, Jared goes on and on about how he can’t lose this job, how important it is that he makes his half of the rent this month, and how he has a meeting with a prospective adoptive parent on Monday and he has nothing to wear and no one is going to want to adopt the babies of a loser who got fired from Disneyland.

Jensen sighs. This is the first he’s heard about the meeting, and he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he helps Jared walk over to a sink. Jared supports himself on the counter while Jensen turns on the tap. Jensen's movements are brisk; he wets some towels and wipes down Jared’s face, not caring if he’s gentle or rough.

“Don’t be mad," Jared hiccups.

“I’m not mad.”

“All you did was kiss me.”

“Excuse me?  _You_ kissed _me_.”

That is kind of sort of what happened in the twelve hours since Jensen last saw Jared. 

Jared was over, eating through all of Jensen's junk food and snacks. It wasn't some huge evening with fireworks or candlelight. Every time Jared needed to use the bathroom, Jensen helped him up. And every time Jared ran out of snacks, Jensen provided him with more. They had Quantum Leap on the television, until Jared switched to the Cooking Channel. Some lady on screen was talking about quiche when their knees bumped together. 

For three weeks, they hung out just like that. Jared would come over. He'd eat. Jensen would nibble. Sometimes they took walks around the block, talking about work or the babies. 

At the end of last night, as Jensen dropped Jared off, their mouths happened to smash together. The first time wasn't so much a kiss as it was a jolt of their faces touching. Jared climbed out of the car and bolted, hauling ass away from Jensen as quickly as possible. 

Jensen denies being the one who started the mashing of lips.

This isn't anything.

He's still telling himself that.

Currently, Jared looks Jensen in the eye, studying him with the levity and seriousness of an FBI agent. There are no jokes here. No awkward quips or teasing. 

“Right,” Jared mumbles quietly. Whatever he finds inside Jensen's eyes causes him to pull away from Jensen. “Since a guy like you could never kiss someone like me. I know. Believe me.”

When Jared isn’t feeling sick, and when he gets more than three hours of sleep a night, he looks good. Jensen always thought people made up that “glowing” thing, but it’s true. Jared’s eyes shine a little brighter and his dimples show a little deeper. But that is neither here nor there. It's just something he's noticed these past three weeks. And maybe something that had to do with their mouths meeting last night.

Was one kiss really such a big deal? Why the fuck does it matter who initiated what? A kiss is not a lifetime commitment. Jensen has kissed plenty of people once and only once. Maybe they were both just trying things out. What's wrong with that?

If it was just one kiss, why should he care about some appointment that has squat to do with him?

Jensen scrambles out of the bathroom, following Jared.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> editing a few things! loved my note here about keeping this to 20k. haha... if i had only known...


	3. Chapter 3

Jared lives in a one bedroom apartment with his twin, Tristan.

The apartment complex is in a shitty part of Anaheim, near the Anaheim Cemetery and next to a Laundromat off of La Plaza. It’s within walking distance of a pancake house and a park, where Jensen knows Jared likes to sit on one particular bench.

Two hours after their spat in the men's bathroom at work, the bench is where Jensen finds Jared, sitting there with the most miserable look on his face. That look, Jensen guesses, could be related to their tiff, but it could also be nausea. Who knows.

“I brought tacos,” Jensen announces, holding up a bag of greasy steak and extra cheese tacos. It’s two o’clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday; kids are still in school so the park is quiet and empty, save for an elderly lady two benches over, knitting a scarf. Jensen can hide behind her if he says the wrong thing, which he inevitably will. He isn't new to feelings, but it's been a fucking while and he isn't the best at opening up to new people.

For the first time since they've known each other, Jensen is witness to a scowl on Jared's face. It matches his brother's in a way that Jensen almost wants to ask him never to do that again.

“Because I’m not fat enough already,” Jared grumbles and pulls at his shirt as if to emphasize.

Jensen takes a deep breath.

He’s had Jared over to his place six times already. Twice, Jared has slept over. Nothing more than a kiss happened last night and nothing more has happened since.

On the opposite side of Anaheim, twenty minutes away from here, Jensen lives in a ranch house with his stepmother, because his father couldn’t be bothered to give a shit about either of them when he left. Jensen thinks his father is in Tokyo now; that’s where the last postcard for Christmas came from. Their house isn't the biggest on the block, or a palatial mansion by any means, but it's theirs. It is a ten minute drive to work on a bad day—walking through the parking lot takes longer—and twenty minutes away from Jared’s place.

In three weeks, he’s learned that Jared doesn't have his own car, so he takes the bus.

Before he can take the bus, he has to walk five minutes to the corner of Lincoln and La Plaza. Then, he'll wait for the 42 bus towards Carson-Norwalk, which is always late, but the driver is the nicest. Six stops along that route, Jared gets off at Lincoln-Harbor, then walks another five minutes to wait twenty minutes for the 43 towards Park-19th. This driver is usually on time, but he's never in a good mood. Another six stops on that route and Jared arrives—one hour later—at the Harbor-Ball stop, where he walks a mile from Ball Road to Anaheim Road. He grabs an employee shuttle at the edge of the parking lot.

It hurt Jensen the first time he heard Jared’s commute.

Jared has been doing it for two months now, rain or shine. He is thankful they haven’t seen many rainy days, because then everything is awful—the buses run late, he never has an umbrella when he needs one, and bad weather depresses him. Plus it makes his knees hurt.

It further upset Jensen when he joined Jared on that commute one morning and saw firsthand how few people, if any, gave up their seats for Jared. And it damn near caused Jensen a heart attack when he heard that Jared went grocery shopping, lugging home three or four paper bags on the bus, and no one gave two shits.

So Jensen has started requesting earlier shifts, even though he detests being awake before ten in the morning.

With these new morning shifts, he now finds himself in Jared’s neighborhood, rolling in at 8:05 am, when Jared is standing on the corner at the bus stop, waiting patiently for the 42.

Maybe.

Maybe this is something.

“You aren’t fat,” Jensen blurts out, less elegant than he pictured in his head. He takes a seat next to Jared, who is always warm, no matter what. “You’re just big boned.”

This at least gets a small snort from Jared.

Jared lasts two minutes before he reaches over and eases the bag of food from Jensen’s hands. He unwraps one taco, the foil peeling back in fear, and takes a huge bite, moaning and eyes fluttering. Jensen reminds him not to have sex with the taco; Jared laughs.

“You got extra cheese.”

“I didn’t want to hear you bitch about it later,” Jensen replies, kicking the woodchips under them with his sneaker.

He sits and waits for Jared to finish devouring five tacos, barely taking a break. Apparently, his puke session at work hasn’t affected his cravings.

The second night Jared slept over at his house, Jensen was woken up at three in the morning for a run to the corner store for items that made him seem crazy to the cashier ringing him up: Funyuns, strawberry ice cream, Twix, taquitos, a hot dog, and puffed Cheetos, not crunchy. Out of all that, Jensen had a spoonful of that ice cream, two bites of the hot dog, and a small handful of the Cheetos.

“Thanks,” Jared says with a smile. “But that cheese is gonna make me so gassy later.”

Jensen sighs and bumps their shoulders together. “Jared, this is why we can’t have nice moments. You’re either throwing up on me or talking about your bodily functions.”

Dimples flash. “I’m still hungry. You got anything else?” Jared practically sniffs out the hidden Twix Jensen has in his hoodie.

Eventually, Jensen forks it over. He lets Jared poke through the denim jacket he has on, tickling him in the search for chocolate and nougat. Pockets are checked. There might be a squeeze and a pinch in there in the process. As the Twix succumbs to the same fate as the tacos, Jared mumbles another thank you and apologizes for snapping. Jensen shrugs. He kicks the woodchips underneath the bench and apologizes for pushing. 

"Quantum Leap or Jurassic Park?" Jensen offers. 

Thinking about it for a second, Jared perks up. "Jurassic Park. You can hear everything I know about dinosaurs and the movie's many archaeological inaccuracies."

In the end, it doesn't matter who started what. 

It matters that no one has ended it.


	4. Chapter 4

Three days later, Jensen drops Jared off in front of his apartment complex.

The smell of tamales and salsa verde is strong; someone must be having a cookout. Jensen’s mouth waters as he gets out of his car and opens the door for Jared, helping the younger man to his feet. At almost six months pregnant, Jared is huge. Jensen didn’t think there would be much of a difference between five and six months, but he was wrong. He also severely underestimated how much food it takes to keep Jared from reaching Angry Pregnant Person status.

The cooler at work used to keep only a few bottles of water. Now, it houses snacks of every kind. Jared munches away at a string of Twizzlers he swiped from the cooler on their way out of work.

They stand awkwardly outside of Jensen’s car for a minute.

Jensen's stepmother likes Jared; Hannah thinks he’s a nice young boy who got caught up in things he wasn’t ready for. She likes to dote on him and swap pregnancy stories and she frequently voices how nice it is to talk to someone in the house. All she seems to get out of Jensen lately are grunts and shrugs. Whatever. Jensen knows he’s _awesome_ company.

“Punzel.”

Jared’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. The nickname has stuck, but only when they’re alone and Jared is in a good mood. It’s a good sign.

“Huh?”

“I’m inviting you in.”

Although Jensen knows exactly which apartment Jared lives in, he’s never been in it. He barely even knew about Tristan, until he showed up at work unexpectedly to ask Jared if he could borrow twenty dollars.

“You gonna feed me?” Jensen asks, walking ahead to signify that he accepts.

He locks his car and holds his arm out for Jared, who slips his in. They walk at a slow pace, Jared huffing the entire way, and Jensen wonders how the fuck Jared walks up and down four flights of stairs every day. The climb causes them both to sweat; Jensen makes them pause halfway. He accuses Jared of having a hidden broomstick somewhere because there’s no way humans were meant to do four floor walk ups.

“Good exercise,” Jared pants, his belly heaving. “Jen?”

“What?” Jensen wipes the sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief. He reaches forward a second later and does the same to Jared. 

Chin tilted up, Jared mumbles, “Don’t judge my place, okay?”

“You got roaches?”

Jared makes a face. “No! I just… it’s small.”

Jensen has already explained to Jared his own living situation. Before his father married Hannah, he lived in a mansion outside of Dallas with Jensen's biological mother. The ranch home on Beacon has always been viewed by Alan as small potatoes in comparison to other places he's lived. But Hannah never wanted an estate; she wanted a comfortable space. It's the house Jensen grew up in.

There is nothing wrong with small.

He assures Jared that as long as they don’t have to come back down the stairs for a while, everything is fine.

Paint dries faster in the time it takes them to reach the Jared’s floor, but they have a few laughs along the way. Holy shit, the stairs are steep. Jensen is going to buy Jared his own personal elevator. 

"In three months," Jared huffs, "I'm gonna hold you to that, Jensen."

The apartment is tiny, that much was right. But it’s brightly lit by the sliding doors leading to a tiny balcony. The place is surprisingly neat, for a space two guys share.

Jared tosses his keys onto the counter and heads right for the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door. Jensen hears him moan in relief as he pees. There isn’t much that’s secret between them anymore. Jared says that pregnancy does that to two people—it makes them experience the human body as it isn’t possibly supposed to work.

In the meantime, Jensen looks around the kitchen. There’s a calendar that someone has titled “Baby Dates,” written in blue. Then there’s a long list of vitamins, medicines, doctors, numbers to clinics, and the adoption agency. On the counter near the sink is a lineup of all those vitamins and medicines. When Jensen peeks into the fridge, he finds a full selection of vegetables and healthy looking things. A stack of baby books rests on the kitchen table.

He finds his number written on the Baby Dates calendar. And he can’t help but smile when he sees a tiny heart drawn under his name, next to his number.

Quickly, before anyone witnesses his sentimental moment, he hollers for Jared. “You done in there?”

Walking close to the bathroom, he hears a tell-tale sniffle. He finds Jared sitting on the toilet, crying.

Hazel eyes look up at him. “I can’t get up, Jen.”

“You ass,” Jensen grumbles and holds his hands out. “You should’ve fuckin’ asked.”

 

Bathroom crisis averted, Jensen helps Jared change from work clothes to sweatpants. According to Jared, sweatpants are the world’s greatest invention. He applied to a state grant thing a few months ago and got a voucher to a maternity shop, where he bought one pair of roomy, giant sweatpants. Since he's not technically a California resident, he only got the one voucher. This pair is starting to feel tight, but Jared would live in them if he could.

They are maybe the ugliest sweatpants Jensen has ever seen—a dark spinach green—but Jared relaxes and stops holding his belly in once he’s in them. His mood changes from surly to chipper, which makes them the best sweatpants ever. Looks can be deceiving or some shit like that. Jared offers Jensen a big glass of sweet tea.

For the majority of the afternoon, they rest on the couch in the living room, watching some show about extreme cakes because Jared can't find his copy of Jurassic Park. Jensen nurses his glass of sweet tea while Jared drinks water. A hoard of snack food is strewn between them, but eventually, Jared gets up—with Jensen’s help—and makes them something more substantial to eat.

It’s a simple plate of instant rice, chicken, and salad. Jared works his way through two large helpings, with an orange and a yogurt after, plus a few spoons of strawberry ice cream. He shares spoonfuls of ice cream with Jensen, who accepts, licking the cold spoon before he passes it back to Jared. At one point, Jared shows Jensen how many things he can balance on his belly.

“Should hire you as my shelf,” Jensen murmurs, sleepy and warm. He lies back in the couch, legs stretched out before him. It’s a nice moment. There is quiet and calm around them, instead of the usual chaos and swarms of tourists. The ice cream was sweet and dinner was good. He could almost fall asleep.

“Jen?”

“What.”

“…I need to pee.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

 

Late at night, Jensen wakes up on the couch. He dozed off somewhere in between Jared switching the television to The Simpsons. Confused at first by his surroundings, he runs a hand through his hair and scrubs at his face. He grimaces when he pieces together the sounds of what woke him up--the very obvious and obnoxious sounds of a girl getting fucked in the next room.

Jensen doesn't give two shits about the girl having fake orgasms ten feet away from him.

He pieces together something he should've noticed before. The couch is Jared's bed. 

Jared doesn’t sleep in the bedroom.

The living room—with its piles of books, pregnancy related and not, odds and ends, and stacks of clothes neatly folded—is Jared’s room. Six months pregnant, he sleeps on an old sofa barely big enough for them to sit on.

And whomever Tristan is fucking through the wall won’t stop screaming her way through her phony orgasm. Jensen bangs his fist against the wall.

He hopes they fuck through the god damned floor.

Grumbling under his breath, Jensen begins to wake up. Jared isn’t next to him. He stumbles off the couch and races to the bathroom, which is empty. He’s grateful Jared can keep his dinner down tonight, but the absence of Jared in the bathroom causes him to start panicking. There are only so many places the guy can be, much less hide. Jared has started wearing shoes without laces because seeing his feet and reaching down to touch them was three months ago.

The shit he knows from Jared’s ramblings.

What saves him from bolting out the door and calling 911 is a knock from the balcony.

“You motherfucker,” Jensen cusses when he opens the sliding door. “I’m thinking that you fuckin’ passed out on the stairs or something!” He squeezes in next to Jared and takes a seat, their legs dangling off the edge through the iron bars.

Jared’s belly presses up against the bars. Jensen tries not to look at it; Jared has his shirt pushed up, over his middle, with his left hand rubbing slow circle. It seems too personal. He blushes and looks out at the view, which is pretty in a way only California can be.

 

"You sleep like a rock, so I didn't wanna wake you up," Jared murmurs. "You looked like you could use a nap."

Rubbing his left shoulder, which is a little stiff from his position on the couch, Jensen admits that he appreciated the rest. He grumbles a question out. “How the hell did you get up by yourself anyway?”

“I get up by myself every morning without you,” Jared snips lightly. He picks up an orange that was beside him, peels it, and munches on a few slices. He offers Jensen a slice. Jensen takes it and decides not to comment on the couch. It would make Jared uncomfortable. Their arrangement, however it came to be, is none of his business, either.

From a few balconies over, one of the neighbors has bluegrass playing out of a tinny stereo. The sound of an expertly played mandolin joins Jared and Jensen, light and cheerful.

Tart, sweet orange slices are passed to Jensen one by one.

“I have to carry them at least thirty-five weeks,” Jared sighs, looking down at his belly. “Did you know there’s a forty percent chance one of them won’t make it?”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Jen, it’s a study.”

“No,” Jensen insists. “That’s _bullshit_. Yours are gonna make it.”

Jared smiles. California sun adds to the glow, enhances the dimples, and outlines the perfect shape of his mouth. This is trouble. Jensen can feel himself leaning in. Now is the time to stop, to quit chasing after something he isn’t possibly prepared for in any shape or form. His heart races and his palms are clammy and he is fairly certain that he’s breathing way too loud.

Last chance for this not to be anything.

He pushes forward and kisses Jared firmly.

The sound of Tristan fucking that girl is miles away. Even the mandolin doesn’t touch them in this space. This kiss is slow and unrushed, and a little awkward at first, but they get the hang of it. One sweet kiss turns into three hungry ones turns into six desperate ones.

When they part, Jared is crying.

“You can’t do this. You can’t do this to me if you don’t mean it, Jen. Please,” Jared begs. “Please don’t do this to me.”

With a tenderness Jensen didn’t know he was ever capable of, he frames Jared’s face with his hands. Broad swipes of his thumbs rub away at the tears that fall. They meet eye to eye.

The tone of his voice surprises him.

“Punzel means it, tall man,” he says quietly but firmly. "You can rescue me from my tower.”

Jared laughs, shaking his head, sniffling and wiping at his eyes. “I threw up all over your tower.”

A moment later, Jared reaches out and takes Jensen’s hand, places it on his belly, and sighs happily. Jensen rubs in the same slow circles he did earlier on Jared’s back. Jared’s belly is the warmest part of him and every now and then, Jensen feels movement. It freaks him out just a little—there are tiny people living inside of Jared, totally rent free—but he knows that this means a lot. Just like those sundaes did.

“That’s okay,” Jensen replies with a kiss to Jared’s cheek. He’s going for a new record in sappiness. “You can still save me.”


	5. Chapter 5

The day before Jared's appointment at the adoption agency, Jensen is woken up at four in the morning.

His phone wrestles him out of a dream about popsicles and beaches. 

He knocks over his lamp when he struggles to reach it.

Swearing, he answers, grumbling and yawning. When he hears Jared crying, Jensen shuts up and tries to make sense of what Jared is saying. Where is he? He needs what? Jensen doesn’t hear chaos in the background so Jared has to be okay.

“What if he doesn’t like me, Jen? What am I gonna do?” Jared sounds like he’s been awake crying, as if he were getting paid to do it.

The sun isn’t even up yet.

“He’s gonna like you,” Jensen manages to mutter, rubbing his eyes, putting Jared on speakerphone. He just got home four hours ago from Jared’s place, after an evening of watching Battlestar Galactica. He had to protect the take out boy—who forgot to bring sweet and sour sauce—from certain, painful death. Jensen tipped him a five and apologized for the near death experience while Jared was in the living room, ripping open cartons and shoving his face full of orange chicken.

Now, over the phone, Jared only stops crying to screech. The past two days have hit the mid-eighties and it has the guy extra cranky. “What if he doesn’t?! Jensen! I’m freaking out!”

“Jesus Christ,” Jensen sighs and rolls over in his bed, curling up under his once warm blankets. “Are you watching those fucking Lifetime movies again? Go the fuck to sleep.” After a pause, Jensen adds, “You’re worrying too much—whomever it is, they're gonna fucking love you and make you King of Spain.”

“You’re so good at this whole comforting thing,” Jared snaps with a huff. “Fuck, I have to pee.”

“I try, but you ruin it with peeing.”

“I can’t reach my dick anymore.”

Through the phone, Jensen hears Jared breathing hard—he must be getting up—then the switch of a light, and of course, then the sound of Jared peeing. Jensen sighs. All the people Jensen has ever dated squealed about privacy and oh my god can you believe some people pee in front of each other? Obviously, Jared doesn’t care. Jensen assumes that if he had three tiny humans pressing on his bladder at all hours he might not care either.

“You were calling me about an emotional crisis,” he growls, shutting his eyes tightly. “Not to bitch about your dick.”

Jared pees forever. “I want a soft pretzel with spicy cheese,” Jared declares, ignoring Jensen completely, talking like it’s not an ungodly hour. “Two of them. And a beer. Oh god, five beers.”

In Texas, people drink two things: sweet tea or beer. Jared was never a big drinker, but lately, all he wants is what he can't have. That includes tuna, lattes, and beer. 

Past the crises for the moment, Jensen pleads to be let go of so he can try to get sleep before work.

Fifteen minutes later, he is inside the late night corner store at the end of Beacon, standing at the counter in plain sight of rotating hot dogs and warm pretzels. 

"Do you want regular cheese or spicy cheese?" Jensen yawns into his phone. 

"Regular, please, spicy gives me the runs."

"Regular," Jensen tells the man behind the counter. "Spicy gives him the runs."

Jared's screech makes the trip worth it.


	6. Chapter 6

When Jensen gets off of work twelve hours after his late night pretzel delivery, he’s exhausted.

Jared couldn’t sleep or get comfortable at all after eating the three pretzels Jensen got him, so Jensen stayed over and attempted to help with the bout of insomnia. As they tried a million different positions for Jared to sit or lay in on the couch, Jensen silently cursed Tristan. Who lets their incredibly pregnant sibling sleep on the fucking couch?

Finally, with a pillow wedged under his belly, Jared fell asleep on his left side.

He always falls asleep with one hand on his belly. Jensen noticed that.

There was nowhere else for Jensen to sleep, so he took a pillow and lay on the hardwood floor, wondering how the fuck he gave up his comfortable bed to sleep here.

Jared woke up only an hour later, panicking and alerting Jensen that he was going to throw up in three, two, one…

Jensen understood why he stayed.

But now, off of work, Jensen wants to sleep in his car. His bed is a ten minute drive away, but he can’t get his face off the steering wheel.

Jerry was in today and made him prune everything that lived on set. If murder were easier to commit in Storybook Land, Jensen would have fed Jerry to the mouth of Monstro months ago. During his break, some of the Casey Jr. ladies hovered around him in the break room, commenting that no one from Gibson Girl knew much about Jared or his boyfriend, the man who, in their words, knocked him up and hightailed it out. What other reason was there for Jared to keep working a job he couldn’t possibly keep? One of the ladies—Jensen thinks her name is Bee—snipped that if it had been _her_ son that got knocked up at eighteen, she would have kicked him out.

Sometimes, Jensen doesn’t understand the extent of how awful people are.

He understands why some parents treat their kids like shit at Disneyland, why some people throw garbage on the ground and don’t bother to pick it up, why some people hoot and holler at him or his coworkers while they’re working on set, and why dude-bro frat guys think hitting on a cast member while they’re conducting a tour is the best thing ever.

The thing he doesn’t get is why people are hell-bent on chipping away at others, when they are clearly trying their best to get by. And no one asked for their fucking opinion in the first god damned place.

These thoughts are way too complicated for his sleep deprived brain.

At eight, he left Jared’s place. The guy was hunched over the toilet, hacking away, but he managed to filter out a small, "Have a good day" in between heaves. Jensen hopes Jared is resting—he damn well better be since he had the day off today.

Jensen switched schedules with Rhonda for tomorrow. He was supposed to work, but he got down on his knees and begged her to take his Monday and he’d take her Friday. After the promise of owing her a favor down the road, he finalized the switch with someone who wasn’t Jerry.

Finally, thinking about his face meeting his pillow motivates him to start his car. As he’s pulling out of the employee lot, he dreams about changing into his sweat pants at home and sliding into bed and passing out forever.

It confuses him a little bit when he pulls up to Jared’s apartment complex.

Fuck.


	7. Chapter 7

Two steps in the door, Jensen makes it clear to Jared that he has to sleep for an hour at least.

"Deal," Jared quips and grabs Jensen's hand, yanking him in and closing the door.

Jared is in a good mood. He makes the couch up for Jensen, laying down a sheet that smells like him--sweet and rich. Jensen can’t stop sniffing it. How had he not noticed how good Jared smells? A soft blanket is draped over him, Jared clucking the entire time that Jensen has to relax or he’ll have an ulcer by the time he’s twenty-five. Jensen grumbles back that he’s not too high strung; Jared huffs, claiming that he’s seen harp strings looser than Jensen. He pulls off Jensen's shoes and takes care to cover his feet.

“I’ll make you dinner,” Jared says softly, standing near the couch. He keeps his right hand on his belly, fingers rubbing small circles. “Punzel?”

Blankets pulled up to his nose, Jensen mutters, “What." He expects to hear Jared talk about some kind of bodily function, or his craving for some kind of obscure junk food that Jensen should go and get or risk mortal peril.

Instead, it’s a different kind of request.

“Can I touch your hair?”

Jensen opens his eyes and looks up at the guy standing in front of him. He scrunches his face. “Are you asking me to let down my hair?”

The smile that he gets is warm. Jared’s glowing again. The fucker. It’s not fair. “Yeah, Punzel. Can I?”

Rolling over, Jensen grunts and nods. He shuts his eyes and falls asleep in seconds, Jared’s long fingers in his hair, carding through while he hums a lullaby. Jensen doesn’t have the energy to protest and he’s not sure he would if he did.

 

After a dinner made from scratch, Jared tries on ten different outfits for the interview. He pulls out six or seven possibilities from a hallway closet. Jensen sits on the couch for the impromptu fashion show.

Nothing fits.

“How much bigger are you going to get?” Jensen asks. He refolds the substantial “no” pile.

Jared is gaining a lot of weight all over, but since he was pretty lanky to begin in, it looks good on him. His face is rounder, which Jensen likes. Nervous, Jared goes over the issue about clothes. The problem with buying regular jeans or pants that are bigger around the waist, is that they balloon everywhere else and hang off his belly like a tent. Button down shirts no longer close past the first button, and even the nicer t-shirts Jared owns don’t completely cover his belly.

Frustrated, Jared sits down on the couch, squatting first, then landing with a small oomph. He looks like he’s about to cry; tears won’t be long. “I… I don’t know. Big. I’m not… not done growing. Jen, what am I gonna do? The only thing that fits is my work uniform and my sweats.”

All hope is not lost. This is California, land of strip malls and highways. Jensen pulls out his phone and gets directions to where he wants to go.

He grabs his keys off the coffee table, pocketing them, and holds his hands out to Jared.

“You’re _not_ gonna keep me up all night again, I can tell you that right the fuck now.”

They both grunt as Jared is lifted up, but Jared does manage a little smirk. “I could keep you up all night for different reasons.”

Jensen blushes.

He threatens to make an outfit for Jared if they don’t get going.

 

Jensen has lived in Anaheim for most of this life, except for a brief stint in San Francisco when his father had a delusional artistic phase and moved them out there for six months. Jensen doesn’t know why his father fought for custody of him when he was two years old if the old man wasn’t going to be around. Six months after the divorce, he married Hannah. His stepmother is more his mother than his biological mother. She lives out in Texas, on a horse ranch, and sends Jensen exactly one card every year, with a picture of a horse that is supposedly his.

In any case, Jensen knows Anaheim pretty well by car.

But he’s fascinated by how well Jared knows it by bus.

“I’m not letting you drive me everywhere, it’s not necessary,” Jared declares in heaving breaths when they finally reach the bottom of the stairs. “Besides, I can afford one pair of pants and the bus for both of us.”

“It’s a fifteen minute drive down 57,” Jensen mutters, helping Jared walk towards the parking lot. “Would you slow the fuck down? This isn’t a fucking race.” Jared is sweating and wheezing a little, belly moving up and down as he takes in deep, unsteady breaths.

Jared glares at him. “You aren’t my chauffeur, Jensen. You know I get along just fine when you’re not here.”

“I know you do, fuck head,” Jensen snaps back, making Jared stop walking for a minute. “But when I’m here, don’t push yourself so fucking hard for no reason.” Jensen realizes that Jared had no plans for anyone to step in and help him later on in his pregnancy. He can’t picture Jared at eight months, climbing those stairs, asking for a seat on the bus, or standing on his feet for eight hours. It worries Jensen a lot, to the point where his own heart is racing.

Eyes squeezed shut, Jared mutters, “It’s four blocks to the 57 bus and that runs on time. All I have to do is take that to the 60, walk to the 53, and that lets me off right in front of the god damned fucking mall, Jensen! Jesus fucking Christ, don’t touch me!” Jared shoves Jensen off with a good amount of force. Jensen stumbles back and holds his hands up to show he won’t touch Jared again. Hazel eyes open wide and Jared’s mouth forms an O as he realizes what just happened. “Punzel, I’m sorry, oh fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“Whatever,” Jensen grumbles and stays standing five feet away from Jared.

Jared reaches out and takes a step forward, but his attempt to apologize ends up with him wincing and faltering in his step. “Uuhhnn!” Jared grunts and bends forward, clutching his belly. Pain mars his face and he starts to tremble all over. Jensen carefully places his hands on Jared’s shoulders and steadies him towards the car, trying to ignore his own rising panic so he can stay calm.

Quickly, he opens the backseat door and helps Jared sit down. “What’s wrong?” Jensen asks after a minute. His cell phone is in hand, ready to call for an ambulance. The nearest hospital is, fortunately, only two miles away.

Taking in deep breaths, tears running down his face, Jared shakes his head and motions for Jensen to put away his phone. “I’m okay… I’m fine. Oh god… hold on…”

“You’re gonna barf in my car?” Jensen squeaks. “Jared, lean forward!”

The look he gets after that… Jensen should be dead. But Jared doesn’t vomit; he burps twice and sighs.

“You had gas?!” Jensen huffs. “All that for gas? I almost had a fucking heart attack!”

“It’s not gas, it’s heartburn god dammit!” Jared snaps then winces, holding onto his middle.

Jensen takes a deep breath. Maybe he is a little high strung. He grabs the package of wipes he has kept in the car ever since Jared started riding with him, and takes one out. Gently, he swipes the sweat and tears from Jared’s face, then gives him a handkerchief so he can blow his nose. Jared sniffs and says that Jensen is fucking rude and horrible and he hates him, but leans into Jensen’s touch anyway.

For ten minutes, Jared cries in the backseat.

For all those ten minutes, Jensen stands over him, kissing his forehead and rubbing his belly.

Three more wipes and a second handkerchief, Jensen helps Jared move to the front seat, which is permanently pushed back now. He buckles Jared in, the way one of the books he’s reading through says to buckle in someone who is pregnant, and walks around to get into the driver’s seat.

When the car starts up, Jared asks if he can control the music.

“Sure,” Jensen replies, and puts the car into drive. 


	8. Chapter 8

On the way, traffic slows them down, but Jensen knows back streets.

Two minutes away from the mall, Jared pulls out a baggie full of baby carrots and grape tomatoes. He feeds a few tomatoes to Jensen as he parks the car.

Jensen is sure to get the closest parking spot. He leaves plenty of room on Jared’s side, running around to open the door and help him out before he does it himself. When they step inside the mall, Jared buys a bottle of water from the nearest vending machine, downs it, and buys another. Jensen watches him drink three before they start walking again. Within sight of their destination, Jared declares an urgent need to pee. Somehow, Jensen is not surprised. After a quick detour to the bathroom, where Jensen stands outside of it, holding the baggie of vegetables, stealing a carrot, they finally arrive.

The store is fancy. Jensen didn’t know there were designer maternity clothes. He feels out of place and uncomfortable—no one asks them if they need help. He thinks about taking them somewhere else.

It seems like Jared has the same thought for a second, but before Jensen knows it, Jared muscles his way through a group of manicured, snobby soccer moms. Jared heads right for the clearance section of the store, undeterred, immediately digging into a rack, complaining that it’s too damn hot in the store. Jensen follows Jared, sticking close, holding the items Jared picks out to try on.

When they’ve been in the store for fifteen minutes, an attendant comes over and asks if they need help.

“I needed help a while ago,” Jared snips. “You and all your coworkers ignored us. So no, I don’t need _your_ help. I need the number to your corporate office, the name of this store's general manager, and a manager right now.”

Although the employees that work there are used to moody pregnant people coming through day in and day out, they are not prepared for Jared. Jensen knows what they look like—people who aren’t going to spend money, mess up the store, and leave—and Jared calls the employees out on it. He bluffs and says he’s about to spend three hundred dollars here and he expects to be treated like anyone else. Jared isn’t rude—he’s worked in food service long enough—but he is direct and blunt. The manager apologizes profusely and gets Jared the largest fitting room, a bottle of water, and a coupon.

A new employee, just starting her shift, comes into the fitting room and introduces herself. Kelly is a red head, sweet, and seems to like her job. She shakes their hands in earnest. Jensen lets her take over—he’s done trying to convince Jared that the pants he chose are brown and not dark gray.

Kelly sweeps in and works her magic.

She works around the fact that Jared can’t wear button and zipper pants anymore, and finds him a pair that look like they’re formal enough for work but are actually more like sweats. Confident, she measures his waist, asking about his health and nothing more, and makes small talk, mostly asking little things about what it’s like to work at Disneyland. When she leaves for ten minutes then comes back with five shirts that fit Jared without stretching, plus two perfect pairs of jeans, and a sweater, Jared is panicking. He asks her for a minute alone with Jensen and she smiles, looks at them, and excuses herself.

Jensen picks up the sweater. It’s cable knit and a dark red. It looks ten times nicer than the puke green sweats Jared has been living in.

“I can’t afford _any_ of this,” Jared whispers frantically. “I’m gonna have to put all this back, Jen.”

A flip of the price tag on the sweater reveals that yeah, it’s sixty dollars, full price. But the coupon they got was for twenty percent off their entire purchase.

Jensen doesn’t have that many expenses.

They own their home and his stepmother only asks for a little bit of rent every month, plus some for utilities. He bought his car in cash last year. It’s a used car, with almost a hundred and fifty thousand miles on it, but runs well and Jensen keeps it up. He has exactly one credit card that he uses to buy gas with, but he pays that off regularly. Everything else, he saves.

He’s never had anything to spend his money on. He bought a brand new guitar for three hundred dollars six months ago and has played it twice since then. Sometimes he’ll take trips to the coast, or pay for dates here and there, but beyond that, Jensen only has his eye on buying a mandolin and a book on how to play, which he shouldn’t do since he barely uses his guitar.

“I’ll buy you your stuff,” he says simply and holds the sweater up. “But only if you wear this for me.”

“No.”

“Don’t make me do the Mickey voice.”

“I said no. I don’t care if you choke on your Mickey voice.”

“Fine, then I’ll have Kelly pick one of those lacy frilly things in the back of the store.”

It’s Jared’s turn to blush this time. He takes the sweater from Jensen and drapes it over himself. “I can’t accept all this from you, you fucker. You buy me food all the time. You never ask me for gas money.”

“And you cook me dinner whenever I’m over,” Jensen replies.

“You fucking sleep on the floor whenever you’re over,” Jared cries with a sniff. “I saved up to buy you a sleeping bag, Punzel. Your tower sucks.”

Jensen shrugs. “Good enough for me.”

Quietly, Jared murmurs that he did not bring Jensen here to pay for anything.

“Fine,” Jensen sighs, folding the sweater. “You’ll pay me back within six months or you’re a terrible human being. Does that work out? Jesus, I’m trying to do something nice here. You know, so my cold dead heart doesn’t freeze over completely.”

Jared agrees to paying Jensen back, and promises to have the money as soon as possible.

“Uh…” Jared puts on the sweater. It looks good on him. “You should probably stay tonight.”

He leans against a wall and watches Jared admire the sweater in the mirror. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. But we’ll stop at your place first.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t pack jeans though. Khakis. You’ll look good in khakis.”

Surprised, Jensen blinks. “Are you…?” Jensen asks tentatively. “Like, for real?”

“If you’re not doing anything,” Jared murmurs, fiddling with the buttons on the sweater. “Rhonda texted me and told me you switched with her.”

“I was just going to drive you. I didn’t mean to…” He’s quieter now, doesn’t look at Jared. “You don’t have to do this just ‘cause I’m buying you clothes.”

Jared takes off the sweater and folds it up neatly. He takes his shirt off and Jensen can’t help but look. There’s a mention about a tub of ice cream in the freezer and a movie when they make it back to his place, then Jared says, “Don’t make this into a moment, Punzel. Just say yes.”

Jensen can’t help but snort. “Did we not just have a moment?”

“Jensen!”

“Fine, fine,” Jensen grumbles. “Yes.”

He buys Jared an entire wardrobe and happily gives Kelly the commission. She wishes them luck.

Jensen wishes that for them too.


	9. Chapter 9

Shortly after arriving at Jensen’s house, Hannah encourages Jared to do a fashion show of all his new threads.

In total, Jensen spent five hundred dollars. He snuck a few things into the pile when Jared wasn’t looking. Watching him discover them is like watching a kid being told they can ride through Storybook Land again. That doesn't happen very often because Storybook is not one of the more entertaining rides, but it does happen on occasion. The stuff Jensen snuck in isn’t anything that exciting to him, but he figured they were necessaries—extra stretch boxers and boxer briefs, socks, and one pair of house slippers.

Eyes bright, Jared gives Jensen a kiss on the cheek and a small pat on his head.

Jensen snorts and playfully waves him off.

Jared bought five pairs of stretchy pants, with two of them larger than the rest for Jared to wear towards the end, all in darker colors to mask any potential stains. Jensen insisted they buy ten shirts so Jared would have a variety—six of them fit him now and four would fit later—and they’re all soft, plain v-necks. None of the stuff was cheap, exactly, but it’s all quality and Hannah praises their choices in addition to the way Jared looks. By the end of the informal fashion show, Jared is radiant, with a sparkle in his eyes Jensen has only seen once before.

Hannah insists on taking a few pictures.

Getting them into place, she licks her hand and tries to smooth down Jensen’s hair. He snaps at her after the first attempt, and growls to be left alone. This is a mistake. Both Jared and Hannah hound him for more pictures. Finally, they get a decent one of Jared and Jensen in front of the fireplace. Jensen stands behind Jared, arms looped around him, even though Jared is an inch taller. Hannah shows them what she thinks is the best one, and disappears to print it. 

Thinking it would be a nice gesture, Jensen leans in to kiss Jared on the cheek.

“Are you wearing cologne?” Jared snips, moving away from Jensen, sniffing the air around him.

Blinking, Jensen tilts his head. “Uh… no? Just deodorant.”

His mother cackles from the living room, firing up the printer. “You’re getting the nose. I told you, you would get the nose.”

“What nose?!” Jensen demands to know. “Who is getting what nose?”

Jared scoots away from him, face scrunched up, and sits down on the biggest couch in the living room.

“Whatever you’re wearing smells awful, Jensen. Ugh. No… yeah… I’m gonna throw up.”

Hannah snaps at Jensen to help Jared to the bathroom, which he does, but his presence seems to make things worse. When he gets Jared to kneel in front of the toilet, Jensen cringes at the sound of heaving and crying. Shortly after, he escapes to his use Hannah's bathroom. After a quick but thorough shower, Jensen hopes that he is scent free. Hannah always keeps unscented soaps around the house for guests who might have allergies, so he scrubbed down with those. Dried off, wrapped in a towel, Jensen heads back to his bathroom. His mother has left Jared alone for a moment at his insistence, and to fix some herbal tea.

Jensen holds Jared’s hair when Jared starts to throw up again.

Half an hour later, Jensen helps Jared into bed.

Jared now possesses a migraine. The babies are moving and he can’t stop crying. How is he supposed to get back to Tristan's? There’s no way they could make it back and climb the stairs. Jensen convinces him that they have everything they need here for the night. Jared reminds him that they don’t—his nighttime vitamins and foods are all at the apartment.

Fortunately, as Jensen reminds Jared, he has something called a car.

"It has four wheels," Jensen murmurs. He holds onto Jared’s arms as Jared uses him to scoot around on the bed. After that, he props pillows behind Jared, on his sides, and under his hips. "And an engine, and this thing I call a horn to feel better about people cutting me off on the freeway." 

Settled in Jensen's bed, Jared's face relaxes. There's a hint of that sparkle again, even if he looks exhausted. 

"Does this thing," Jared whispers, "have a thing called a seat belt?" 

"Yeah. Probably."

"You should wear that."

Knocking on the door frame, Hannah brings a cool cloth and a bottle of lotion. Jensen looks at the bottle and asks what it’s for.

“For the stretch marks,” she says like Jensen is five. “Do that, then go get his things. I’ll keep watch while you're gone.”

She steps out. Jensen uncaps the bottle. More and more relaxed by the second, Jared is still dealing with the pain caused by three tiny humans playing house. He can’t get comfortable. Jensen wonders what motivates anyone to get pregnant.

He rubs a handful of lotion between his hands and whispers that he’s going to touch in a second. Jared doesn’t respond with words; nodding, he lets out a deep sigh. Wearing one of his new pajama shirts, Jared pushes it up.

Careful, Jensen’s fingers touch Jared’s tender belly. Every time he does this he can’t believe what Jared’s body is capable of. When he does counterclockwise movements the babies are more active, which causes Jared to start sobbing, begging Jensen in slurs to stop doing that. Apoligizing, Jensen rubs his hands clockwise, applying firm but gentle pressure. For some reason, the babies respond to that and settle down, though he can still feel the occasional kick. They’re strong for being so little.

Eventually, his hands make broader circles all across Jared’s belly.

It catches Jensen completely by surprise when Jared throws up in bed, crying out in pain, trying not to get any on the sheets.

“Don’t worry about the sheets, Jared!” Jensen says, panicking to help Jared sit up. “Where does it hurt?”

“My back!” Jared yells, gripping onto Jensen’s arms. “Oh god, Jen, my back.” Jared starts to roll around in a panicked attempt to relieve the pressure on his lower back. Jensen shouts at him to stay still or at least stop flailing around in vomit.

This is not going well.

Saving the day yet again, his mother steps in when she hears them start to curse at each other. Efficiently, she moves Jensen out of the way and tells him to run a bath. She starts peeling clothes off of Jared, insisting that he hasn’t got anything she hasn’t seen before. Halfway to the bathroom, Jensen hears Jared throw up in the hallway. When they do make it to the toilet, Jared heaves again.

It takes a long time to calm Jared down.

Tonight is not simple.

It also takes a long time for Jensen’s heart to stop racing. He’s prepared to call 911 several times. With the help of his mother, they manage to clean Jared up and lower him into a warm bath. Jared looks like shit; utterly wrecked and worn out. Jensen washes his hair, kneeling beside the tub in fresh pajamas since Jared threw up on his last pair.

An hour later, Jensen leaves for Jared’s apartment. Jared feels a little better, the migraine having passed. As he steps out, Jared starts taking a walk around the house with Hannah. Hannah has two sons that are ten years older than Jensen. He never sees them. Her first husband kept custody of them. She and Jared talk about nausea and bladder control and heartburn.

Jensen is a little relieved to leave at that point.

 

Using the key Jared gave him, Jensen steps into the tiny apartment after dragging his way up four flights of stairs.

It’s almost midnight and the appointment is tomorrow morning at ten thirty. He hopes Jared sleeps better in a bed than on the couch, because they both could use the rest.

Tristan is in his room, fucking some girl again.

Jensen grabs what he needs and bolts. Down the last set of stairs, his phone rings.

In a sweet, affectionate, slightly sleepy tone, Jared asks if Jensen wouldn’t mind picking up some strawberry ice cream and a Big Mac, fries, cookies, and a Sprite.

The first time he stops at Mc Donald’s, Jensen forgets the cookies.

The second time, as he’s ordering he gets a text message asking to add on ten chicken nuggets.

By the time he finally arrives home, Jensen finds it impossible that someone who spent most of the evening throwing up, eats every single thing in the Mc Donald’s bags. He lines up the vitamins for Jared. Then, he prepares Jared’s evening snack, which Jensen makes the mistake of asking if he still wants.

“Of course I still want it,” Jared mumbles from the living room. "I'm still hungry."

Every night Jared eats a plate of raw vegetables and a cup of yogurt, and drinks a glass of whole milk mixed with powdered milk. He finishes the glass of milk and hands it back to Jensen with a burp.

“Thank you,” Jared sighs, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry I barfed on you. And in your bed. And in the hallway.”

Jensen washes the dishes and finds that he’s not as pissed off as he expected to be after what happened. He joins Jared on the couch for a moment, until his mother walks in and shoos them to bed. Jensen made the mistake of having Jared nearly flat on his back, which Hannah scolds them both for and tells them never to do again. Together, Hannah and Jensen place Jared on his left side, with a pillow underneath his belly.

After a quiet thank you, Jared falls asleep seconds after.

Hannah looks at Jensen. They move closer to the doorway.

“I’ve never seen you care so much about anyone, Jensen,” she says. “Especially someone you’ve only just met a month ago.”

He doesn’t know what to say to this or what she says next.

“I just… honey, I know you. I know you have money saved up but that’s not enough to take care of three babies. That’s not enough to take care of one. So please.” She pats his shoulder. “Think about everything carefully, please?”

Even though he’s tired to the bone, Jensen stays awake for an hour after. He spoons Jared, one hand over Jared’s hand on his belly, and noses Jared’s neck.

Where exactly does he want this to go? 


	10. Chapter 10

Last night is the first night Jared sleeps all the way through.

There are quite a few times when Jared hogs all the blankets and solidifies himself against Jensen—or he gets really hot and strips the bed of the blankets and sheets. But that’s okay. Jensen survives the night with only one kick to the kidneys.

When he wakes up, Jared isn’t next to him.

Jensen is going to have to remind him not to keep doing that. Pisses him off.

Sitting up, scrubbing his face, his eyes peer open to Jared walking into the room, carrying a breakfast tray.

“Oh good,” he announces with a smile. “Punzel is awake. I don’t have to poke your face.”

“Dude,” Jensen groans, covering his hips with the blanket. “A little warning for fuck’s sake?”

“I think I’ve seen more than my fair share of your dick, Punzel.”

The tray is hefted down and Jensen’s mouth waters at the sight of pancakes, bacon, and black coffee strong enough to melt his stomach lining. Jared must have made the pancakes, because Hannah can’t cook them; hers always turn out charred and sad. These, as Jensen digs in, are fluffy and coated in butter, drenched with warm syrup.

Through a mouthful of pancakes, Jensen mutters. "When have you seen my dick? It's the other way around."

Jared busies around his room, tidying up here and there. Jensen doesn’t mind him moving things around. His room isn’t messy—Hannah would cut him—but he likes it to look lived in. Still, he lets Jared do his thing. He’s noticed that Jared cleans when he’s nervous.

As he eats breakfast, Jared talks. Jared is always talking. It’s not about anything in particular, refuting Jensen's dick claim, commenting on the weather, their next shift at work tomorrow, and his recipe for out of this world pancakes.

There’s a lilt to Jared’s voice that Jensen finds calming.

He doesn’t ever have to say much back in response, a nod or a grunt here or there satisfies Jared, and the pressure to make conversation is lifted. Jensen prefers to listen and when something strikes him as funny or interesting enough to comment on, he does. In general, he is content to have Jared talk uninterrupted.

Moving around the room, Jared’s face is bright with energy, feeling well today; it’ll certainly help the appointment. Jensen can’t imagine what it’d be like if Jared had a migraine.

As Jensen takes a long pull of coffee, Jared walks over, ready to scoop up the tray.

Jensen has Jared pause for a moment. He reaches out, places his hand on the back of Jared’s head, and pulls him in for a kiss that quickly turns into something deeper. Jared opens up to him easy and warm, sighing when Jensen swipes his tongue in.

Just like the last time, one kiss turns into two, turns into three, and on and on until Jensen helps Jared onto the bed, their lips never more than an inch apart from each other. Jared sits on the edge, one hand on his belly and the other on Jensen’s neck, thumb rubbing at the sensitive spot behind Jensen’s ear. Jensen kneels, leaning down, tilting Jared’s head so he can press their mouths closer, get his tongue in deeper. Jared tastes like strawberries yogurt and orange juice.

Jared grabs Jensen’s left hand with his right and places it on his belly, moaning again when Jensen starts to rub clockwise. Their kisses become less sweet, replaced with hungry bites at Jensen’s bottom lip or gentle, slow suction around Jared’s tongue.

Nervous about this new course of action, Jensen takes a chance—he inches his hand lower. Jared realizes what he means to do and he opens his mouth to let out a long, pleading breath. As his hand pushes down Jared’s sweats, Jensen moves his kisses to Jared’s neck, biting down lightly, careful not to leave marks. It gets Jared gasping and gripping onto Jensen, who moves around on the bed. He leans Jared back a little, lifts Jared’s hips up a fraction and tugs the sweats down. He’s very grateful Jared isn’t wearing anything underneath.

They stop kissing for a minute. Jensen looks down at Jared’s cock, which is curving up, pressed against his belly, swollen, flushed, and twitching. He’s longer than Jensen is, but not as thick. Jensen’s hand wraps around it perfectly.

Jared’s breath hitches and his shoulders tremble, grabbing onto his belly with one hand as he steadies himself on the bed. Jensen reaches across to the nightstand, fishing out a bottle of lube, one he bought by accident the last time he was at the pharmacy. Now seems like a good time to use it though, considering it’s unscented. He’s generous with it, and kisses Jared roughly as his hand grips back onto Jared’s cock. He makes a firm fist near the head of it and moves his hand in small, fast motions. Moaning against Jensen’s mouth, Jared keeps his eyes closed, belly moving up and down as he breathes deep. The bed squeaks as Jared rocks his hips up and down, fucking into Jensen’s hand.

Jensen doesn’t let their mouths part; he swallows every sigh, each keen that Jared gives.

He is just as hard as Jared, but he doesn’t concentrate on that. Instead, as the lube activates—it’s warming lube, something Jensen doesn’t like on himself, but Jared responds to—Jensen tips them so that Jared is resting on his left side. He spoons Jared from behind, hand pumping Jared’s cock, and groans when he feels Jared pushing back against him.

For a moment, all Jensen hears is the creak of his bed as they work against each other. He hooks his right leg over Jared’s hip and grinds his cock against Jared’s ass, slipping in and out of pert, firm globes. They are both breathing hard, trying to stay quiet. He can hear the steady sound of his hand jerking Jared off, working in fast but rough strokes, flicking his wrist on the bloated head.

Jensen feels their muscles tense; this isn’t enough.

But shit, it all feels so good.

He sniffs Jared’s hair as they rock together, taking in Jared’s scent. It’s addictive and gets him harder. His eyes roll back and he feels his toes curl but he forces himself to wait.

“Coming,” Jared gasps quietly. “Jen… I’m gonna… it’s… it’s gonna be messy, Jen…”

“Forget about the fucking sheets, Jared,” Jensen growls, his hips stuttering and cock twitching at the sound of Jared’s voice.

Jared closes his eyes and opens his mouth wide, silently screaming, bucking against Jensen. The first rope of come Jared shoots lands on his belly. The rest stripes Jensen’s hand and the bed. Jensen comes halfway through Jared’s orgasm, smothering his sounds in the bed and against Jared’s back. He comes all over Jared’s ass, untouched.

Jensen hasn’t come like that in ages.

He strokes Jared until every drop is out, letting go gently. They’re both a mess and Jared was right; there’s a lot of come. Jared probably hasn’t had any release in a while. Just as he starts to apologize to Jensen, Jensen takes a taste of the come on his hand. It’s bitter but a lot sweeter than any Jensen has tasted before. He wonders if that’s just Jared or the hormones. Jared whines that he needs to turn over or sit up. Jensen wipes his hand on the sheets and helps Jared up. He puts them eye to eye, making sure Jared is okay. Besides a little heavy breathing and his face blushing fiercely, Jared looks fine; blissed out, actually. Jensen smirks.

“Jen,” Jared whispers, their noses bumping. “Say something sweet to me.”

Jensen hasn’t been with too many guys but the ones he has been with have never asked for anything like this after a hand job. This catches him a little off guard.

He blurts out the first thing in his mind.

His voice is deeper than he usually keeps it. He closes his eyes and presses their foreheads together. Jared places Jensen’s hand on his belly again. He feels movement, but it stops midway through.

“Never on one single pore Eternity have I been touched by your snows, or felt your shy mouth tremble, your breath break on me like the white wave.” His mouth moves to the top of Jared’s head, where there is soft, silky brown hair. “I have not felt your nakedness tear me with hunger or your silver hands betray me but today I promise…” Jensen breathes Jared in. “Whatever flower of your house should bloom I will stay locked to its breast. Like little fish who live harmlessly under the bellies of sharks, I will go where you go, drift inconspicuously in the raw dredge of your power like a leaf, a bubble of carrion, a man who has understood and does not.”

This poem is special to Jensen, not that he would tell anyone that.

An alarm goes off from the nightstand. They ignore it.

Jared presses a kiss to the tip of Jensen’s nose. “Wow…” he breathes and smiles, dimples showing. “Do that again.”

Jensen snorts. “No.”

They need to take showers, clean up the bed, and get dressed. It’s nine fifteen and they have to be on the road by ten to make it to the hospital. Jared has their clothes laid out for them already. All they have to do is leave Jensen’s bed, which seems impossible.

Until Jared looks at Jensen.

“Jen.”

“Mmm?”

“I need to pee.”


	11. Chapter 11

As they’re getting dressed, Jared fixes Jensen’s collar and ties his tie.

Jensen then helps Jared put on socks and the house slippers. Wearing them can’t be helped; Jared’s feet are swollen and none of Jensen’s shoes fit him. Jared hopes no one looks at his feet.

“I certainly can’t see them,” he huffs as Jensen buckles him into the car.

“Feet are feet, Jared, they’re not any different.” Jensen tucks a bag of snacks into the car door compartment. 

Hannah sent them off with hugs and wishes for the best outcome for everyone. Privately, she pulled Jared aside and reminded him that there is no pressure, no rush to make a decision today. She also gave Jensen a look that he knew meant: don’t be an idiot.

He climbs into the driver’s seat and looks over at Jared, who smiles.

“You can quote poetry,” Jared says in a sing-song voice. “You’re not as mean and crotchety as you think you are, Jensen Ackles. You have a soft side after all.”

In response, Jensen grumbles as he starts up the car. “You wanna walk to the hospital?”

Jared grabs Jensen’s free hand and holds it, firmly and with confidence. “You have a heart attack when you hear I walk to the pancake house, like you’d let me walk five miles to the hospital. Jen, what am I gonna do if they think three babies are too many? Or maybe they won’t like me at all and just say no altogether?”

There is very little traffic, which surprises Jensen. It’s like everyone knows to stay out of their way. He was never a chaotic driver but when Jared is in the car, he leaves extra space in between cars and stops earlier. The weather is mild today. Jensen lowers his window and breathes in deep before replying. He reminds Jared that the point of today is for Jared to like the parents, not the other way around. Jared has to be comfortable with his decision—who the fuck cares if the parents like Jared? The most important thing, Jensen reemphasizes, is for Jared to like them.

Despite the boost twenty minutes later, Jared ends up throwing up in the adoption agency bathroom.

Half of this bout of puking is due to anxiety and the other half, well, who knows.

The receptionist says she sees that happen all the time. This doesn’t make Jared feel better.

The agency office is inside the hospital, on a nice, quiet wing. Although decorated simply, it is definitely not sterile. Jared’s caseworker, a lady by the name of Diana, greets him within ten minutes of their arrival. Jensen helps Jared up from the chair and they all shake hands. Diana informs Jensen that he can’t be present for the meeting, unless he’s the biological father.

“He is,” Jared insists, slinging an arm around Jensen’s waist.

Diana, an older woman with wavy gray hair, gives Jared a look. “You reported that the biological father was deceased.”

Jared takes a deep breath, his other hand on his belly. “Look, I don’t want to be alone for this, please. Can’t we say that for right now he’s the father and if there’s a question about that you can run a test later? I’m the only one allowed to sign the papers anyway.” Jared has a way of knowing exactly what tone will work on the right people. Diana sighs and shakes her head, motioning them both towards her office, where there are three chairs set up. She has an obvious soft spot for Jared.

An extra chair is brought for Jensen, but before he sits, he helps Jared sit down in the big armchair. It takes a little maneuvering for Jared to feel comfortable, but once he is, Jensen settles in next to him.

Initially, there was only one meeting set up for Jared, but Diana has found two other couples that she thinks might be good fits, so today they’re meeting three. The first is the one they had scheduled originally and they begin at eleven. That leaves them half an hour to talk about a few things first.

It astounds Jensen that six people in the world have the means to pay for an adoption of three babies. Diana runs through a list of things for Jensen’s benefit and to refresh Jared. The total expense for the couple will be sixty thousand dollars, which is expensive in comparison to most adoptions, but there are additional fees for triplets. The money will be split three ways—one to the agency itself, second to the hospital and its non-profit organization that helps low-income parents like Jared, which he has been using to receive care, and third to help Jared pay for medical bills, rent, and expenses. He can’t be given cash, so everything will be held on credit or distributed in gift cards, but Diana assures Jared that part of the expenses are food, utilities, and medical coverage for a year beginning whenever he makes his decision.

Jensen sighs in relief. As soon as he reaches his decision, Jared can quit Disneyland and stay on bed rest.

There are other things Jared will have to figure out sooner rather than later. In one of the books Jensen either snuck from Jared or checked out from the library, it mentions that Jared should sleep more often and stay off his feet. He’s already having difficulty breathing after walking around for more than fifteen minutes. Those stairs at the apartment won’t be feasible for much longer.

But these are all things Jared has to decide for himself.

Diana keeps going, detailing that the insurance plan Jared will be under will cover most of the birth, but there’s still a significant portion to pay out of pocket since triplets often need more medical help than single babies. Those costs—part of the sixty grand—will go to the adoptive parents who have had to interview with the agency and prove they have the money on hand to not only pay the fee, but to further provide for all three babies.

The agency and the hospital both work together to ensure the right baby goes to the right parents; this is the first of a few interviews between Jared and prospective parents.

Jared chose an open adoption plan, which means he has to reach an agreement with whomever he chooses to be involved with the kids in a way that’s comfortable for everyone. He’ll have to hire a lawyer to finalize things, but that’s another expense that will be billed to the adoptive parents.

For now, all he has to do, Diana assures him, is get a feel for the couples and pick who he wants to have round two interviews with.

They will sit in with the couples together and then with them separately. She hands him a list of questions she likes to see birth parents ask. Jensen glances at it.

Some of the questions are simple: why do you want to adopt?

Others are more complicated: what are your parenting styles and does your spouse agree?

At eleven, Diana gives Jared a bottle of water and announces that it’s time for the first interview.

“Jen,” Jared whispers as Diana leaves the room to call them in. “Tell me I’m doing the right thing.”

Jensen has ten thousand dollars saved up—that’s from work, overtime, birthday and holiday presents from his father. While that’s a lot of money in his world and most people’s, that’s not enough to adopt one baby, let alone three. Hannah’s words echo in his mind.

These people, whoever they are, not only have enough money to pay for the adoption, but to give the babies a comfortable life. Jared won’t adopt them separately—all three must be adopted by the same couple—and he wants a couple that will let him visit at least once a month. Jensen thinks once a week should be the minimum. The entire process is difficult in more ways than one and Jensen is grateful to be here with Jared.

Still, he can’t give much advice. He’s not the one with the babies.

“Just get through this part,” Jensen says, kissing Jared’s hand. “We’ll see about the rest.”

Jared nods and takes a deep breath. The door opens.

Here they go.


	12. Chapter 12

The problem with the first two couples is not that Jared hates them or doesn’t like them.

It’s that he doesn’t like them enough.

Both couples are very nice people and they don’t talk down to Jared. Everyone answers his questions with pretty good answers. But Jensen can see from the expression on Jared’s face that Jared is not sold on them. There isn’t a solid connection there and it frustrates Jared.

At the end of the second interview, Jared asks for a break. Diana agrees and tells them she’ll let the third couple know that their interview has been pushed back half an hour. That gives Jared and Jensen enough time to walk to the cafeteria and get something to eat.

At the cafeteria, Jared piles food onto a tray that Jensen ends up carrying. Jared pays with vouchers Diana supplied him with and they take a table by the window.

After drinking two bottles of water with his meal, Jared leans back in the chair.

“I feel huge today,” Jared sighs unhappily. “They keep moving around in there, too. Like I’m hosting a dance party or something.”

“That’s kind of creepy,” Jensen replies, picturing the image.

Jared makes a face. “My children are _not_ creepy! They’re just overactive and don’t know when to stop rolling over my organs.” He flicks a fry at Jensen. “When we get back, will you rub my stomach again?”

Eating the fry, Jensen shrugs. “Sure, but I charge payment.”

“I won’t throw up on you today,” Jared swears, holding his hand up for emphasis. “Honest.”

They’re ignoring a lot of major topics, but at the moment, Jensen doesn’t care. He gets a text from Rhonda informing him that he will be repaying his favor to her tomorrow. That can’t be good. Finishing the last of the fries, he shares this information with Jared, who agrees. While Jared lets Jensen polish off the rest of their tray, they wonder what it could be. Every answer from tour guiding the entire day to cleaning the boat with a toothbrush is thrown out there and they laugh as the possibilities get more and more exaggerated. By the time they are headed back to the agency office, Jensen thinks he might be dangling from Monstro in twenty-four hours.

When they return, Jared sits in the armchair again, but asks to switch chairs with Jensen. Jensen’s is a plain foldout chair, which would seem less comfortable, but he gives it up and helps Jared move over.

Their knees bumping together, they wait for Diana to call in the third couple, who has just arrived.

At the last minute, Jared fixes Jensen’s tie. Jensen hates wearing ties but it feels good to have Jared’s hands on him so he doesn’t complain, even when Jared keeps trying to smooth out a wrinkle in his shirt that Jensen isn’t sure is actually there.

Because of how the last two interviews went, they don’t expect this one to be any different. Diana walks in first, talking about the weather, and holds the door open for two men.

Both are about the same height, the older one a little taller and stockier. After working at Disney, Jensen can spot details in people pretty quickly. These men are both pretty wealthy, judging by their clothes and appearances, but also very low key. The older guy is wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, while his younger partner has a gray suit on with a blue tie that brings out his eyes.

They are the kind of people that Jensen sees at the park and wonders what they’re doing there with all the commoners. Except, they don’t have the attitude those people have; instead of being cold and standoffish, they’re all manners and handshakes. The younger guy insists that Jared doesn’t have to get up. Instead, he comes over to shake his hand and give him a small hug.

This is good. Jensen knows that one of the fastest ways to Jared’s good side is a hug.

“I’m so happy to finally meet you,” the younger partner says cheerfully, reaching behind him to push forward his partner. “I think Jeff almost killed me on the way here, I couldn’t stop talking about how excited I am for today. Jeff, say hi, don’t just stand there! Sorry, we’re both a little nervous.”

“You gonna ever tell them our names?” the older guy says, with a little bit of gruff. He holds his hand out to Jensen. “Jeffrey, Jeff is just fine. Excuse my other half, he almost threw up before we got here.”

“That’s okay,” Jared chirps, shaking Jeff’s hand. “I know all about that.”

“He seems big and scary but Jeff was just as nervous as I was on the way here. I’m Misha. I brought cookies. Diana, is that okay? I’m sorry but there was a bakery right around here and I couldn’t say no to sugar.”

Diana smiles and says it’s okay as long as he shares with everyone else. A pink bakery box is procured and placed on the coffee table between the chairs for the interview. Even though they just ate lunch, Jared’s face lights up and Jensen breathes a little easier. He hands Jared a sugar cookie but doesn’t take one for himself. He’s not too big on sweets without coffee.

“Thank you!” Jared replies, already halfway through the cookie. “This is Jensen. He doesn’t talk much but he quotes really nice poetry to me and that proves he isn’t a cyborg.”

This gets them raised eyebrows from the couple and for a second, Jensen thinks they don’t get the joke.

“You think he’s not a cyborg,” Jeff rumbles, “but what if cyborgs learned how to quote poetry?”

“Touché!” Jared laughs and looks over at Jensen. “We all know your secret, Jen. You can speak more than two words at a time now.”

Jensen chooses to snort and fold his arms over his chest. For the last two interviews all the attention was on Jared—as he feels it should be—and he’s relieved when it circles back to Jared a minute later. They start talking about the cookies, which turns into a conversation about what Jared has been craving and how his pregnancy has been going. Jared reports that everything has been good so far and he comes to the hospital once every two weeks.

“There’s one that’s bigger than the rest,” he tells the couple, who have sat down and eaten a few cookies as well. “But the team that sees me doesn’t see anything wrong. Everyone’s healthy. Uh…can I have some water?” Jensen moves to get up but Misha beats him to it, taking a bottle of water from Diana and handing it over.

“Are you scared about the actual day?” Jeff asks. He’s leaning back in his chair, one arm on the arm rest and his right arm around Misha’s chair.

Jared nods as he drinks. “Well, yeah. I’m gonna… uh… I’m gonna try to deliver at least one naturally. Then do the rest via c-section. It depends. I’ll find out more later on. Is that an issue?”

Quick to reply, Misha shakes his head. “Oh no! We’re just curious. Actually, I think that’s a great way to do it, then you get the experience of both. However you want to do it is totally up to you two. We just want to make sure you have the support you’ll need. Have you taken any Lamaze classes?”

He wants to interrupt and emphasize that the decision is only Jared’s, but Jensen doesn’t have the opportunity to. Jared replies that that he hasn’t and he needs to but those classes cost money and most of his paycheck—with fewer hours at work—has been going towards rent. Misha and Jeff look at each other in a way that Jensen knows they’ve just shared something in silence. Jensen hands Jared another cookie, against his better judgment. Diana prompts them to start talking about Misha and Jeff, and the couple jumps right in. Misha takes out a scrapbook from his briefcase and places it on the coffee table after Jeff clears the cookies away. He hands the box to Jensen to hold. Jensen ends up nibbling on a butter cookie and when he doesn’t finish it, he passes it over to Jared, who makes a happy noise.

The scrapbook is opened and the excitement is clear on Misha's face. He leans forward in his chair to point to the pictures.

“Jeff and I have been together for twelve years, married for eight. I roped him into it outside of the Great Wall.” True enough, there’s a picture of a younger them, standing happily in front of the Great Wall of China. Misha is holding up Jeff’s hand in the picture, showing off the ring. “Bagged him, brought him home, married the hell out of him. Right?”

Jeff nods and smiles easily. “That’d be the start of it, yeah.”

Pages are flipped and both men talk about the pictures inside. Jensen gets glimpses of the entire world from those pages. He feels very small by the end of it. He hasn’t set foot outside of California since he was ten and that didn’t technically count—he went to Vegas with his father and was epically bored for the whole trip.

As the scrapbook is closed and tucked away, Jeff relays that he’s an actor in theater and a successful drag queen on the side. His performances in both theater and drag have been fortunate enough to get solid reviews. He enjoys his work. However, in the past two years he’s taken a lot more time off.

“We’re hoping for girls,” Misha shares, nervously bouncing his foot. “Because we already know the makeup and the hair part. Boys would be fine too—it’s not like we couldn’t dress them up and practice drag early. Really, I think we just… yeah.”

Jared nods and places a hand on his belly. Jensen wonders what he’s thinking.

“Mish is a software developer, right honey?” Jeff asks a moment later, patting Misha’s knee. “He just started teaching classes at the college near us.”

“Yes, yeah. Uh… I started my own company when I was twenty, then by the time I graduated college, I sold it. I kept a creative position in it though so I float through the office once a month and work on projects here and there.” Misha and Jeff are in their mid-thirties, with Jeff close to forty. “I work as a consultant here and there and we really try to line up our schedules if we’re traveling. Jeff hates planes, so I’ll take a job if he has to get on one. And um… same thing, really? I started taking more time off last year because I just… we’ve really wanted this. For a long time. Now we’re old enough to know it.”

It’s already past their interview time and they haven’t even touched on any of the questions on the list from Diana. How are they supposed to bond for something this huge in only half an hour?

Jensen tries to hand them back the box of cookies, which is still halfway full. Jeff shakes his head and insists that they keep it and finish it off. There’s a bundle of nervous energy in the room and Jensen doesn’t know who it radiates off of more. Diana chimes in that Jared is free to make a second interview with Misha and Jeff if he would like, since their time has run out today.

Half a minute later, Jared quietly says that he would like to have another interview, if that’s okay.

Another one is scheduled for right after Jared’s check-up on Wednesday afternoon, at four fifteen. The interview is made for five. Jensen works until four but he doesn’t say anything about that. He doesn’t want to butt in.

Helping Jared up, Jensen watches him carefully as he says goodbye to Misha and Jeff.

In just a few minutes they’re out of the office and Jensen is arguing with Jared about bringing the car around. Jared insists that he can walk to the car and Jensen grumbles that there’s no reason to do so if Jared would just stay still for a minute. The rest of the day is theirs and Jensen feels anxious. They are going to have to talk about things soon.

He buckles Jared into the car—who ended up walking—and gets into the driver’s seat again. They leave the hospital in silence, both of them too busy in their own heads.

Just as Jensen is pulling into his driveway, Jared bursts out into tears.

Sobbing, he refuses to speak to Jensen, who panics and has no idea what to do. He leaves the car running and thinks about going inside to see if Hannah is still home. Carefully, he places a hand on Jared’s shoulder. Jared cries harder. Jensen pleads with him to calm down, just for a minute, or to at least take a few deep breaths, which Jensen himself is trying to do.

After five minutes, Jared stops crying long enough to blurt out what’s wrong.

“I like them,” he says, crying again. “I wanna hate them but I _like_ them, Punzel. What am I gonna do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still rollin' away with edits! :D


	13. Chapter 13

That evening, Jared invites Jensen over for dinner. Tristan is thankfully not around and they occupy the apartment without any sounds of fake orgasms or awful banging. Jensen hangs around the kitchen, offering to help, but winds up content to watch Jared work. In half an hour, Jared whips up a small meal for them.

Food is supposed to be simple. You sit down, you eat it. This is how Jensen's mind works. 

“What are you doing here, Jensen?” Jared asks, setting down a hot plate in front of Jensen.

“Trying to eat dinner.”

“No. I mean why are you here?”

“A man has to eat, god dammit.”

“Don’t swear around my children.”

“They’re not even born yet! They don’t know the difference between god dammit and hello!”

“Shut up and eat your dinner.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!”

“Well now it’s cold! How can you eat cold chicken?! Now I have to microwave it just because you wouldn’t stop swearing at the table!”

“You don’t have to… Jared! It’s not that… c’mon!”

“I tried to make a nice meal for you all you can do is swear at your plate.”

“It _is_ a nice meal, I was eating it just fine! Jared, don’t put it in the microwave. Jared.”

“You didn’t even touch the macaroni and cheese I made for you. I hate macaroni and cheese. I made it from scratch you know, because I know you like it. I had a box but I thought you might want something fresh and it’s still on your plate.”

“I can’t eat it if it’s in the microwave!”

“Don’t shout at me, Jensen!”

“I’m not shouting, Jared!”

“Just tell me you don’t like what I made and I’ll throw it away.”

“I ain’t telling you squat like that. I was in the middle of eating and you took my fucking plate away!”

“What did I say about swearing?!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Here, eat your stupid food or not, I don’t care. I’m going out.”

“Where are you going? Jared? Fuck. Hey! Where are you going?”

“Out!”

“Let me drive you, Jared, shit…”

“I don’t need to be driven. The pancake house is right down the street thank you very much.”

 

And that is when a door slams in Jensen’s face.

He winds up eating the food on his plate, sitting alone in Jared’s kitchen, wondering what the fuck just happened.


	14. Chapter 14

Another favorite of Jared's haunts is the all night diner across the street.

Jensen drives over, even though it's a stone's throw. He means to haul someone's ass back home.

There are two waitresses in the diner who know Jensen by now. He’s only come in twice, but that’s been enough for them to recognize him as a friend of one of their best customers. Sue—an older lady with bright red hair and lipstick to match—sees him walk in and leaves the table she’s waiting on to talk to Jensen.

“I’ve never seen him this upset,” she whispers and nods to the corner table she’s situated Jared at. “The fuck did you do?”

“I tried to eat my dinner,” Jensen grumbles, hands in his pockets. “He just took off.”

She gives him a sympathetic look. “I was like that with my first husband.” Her table is flagging her down but she doesn’t give two shits. “Hormones drove me crazy, like a bat out of hell. I ragged on him so hard while I was pregnant with Julie, I blamed him for the sky being blue. Think I tore out a piece of his hair. He’s bald now. Wears the ugliest toupee. Did that with my second husband too, though.”

Jensen sighs. The first time Jared introduced him to Sue she threatened to cut up Jensen’s balls and serve them to him over toast if she heard he ever hurt Jared. He likes Sue—she looks after Jared, has given him rides to the hospital twice—but he’s still a little afraid of her.

“I’m guessing this is gonna get worse before it gets better,” he murmurs. Jared hasn’t looked up from his food in the time Jensen’s stood inside the restaurant. With the chaos from the six tables that are filled and the cooks in the kitchen, there’s a lot of noise.

“Oh honey,” Sue cackles. “You think this is bad? Wait til he’s on bed rest and can’t leave the house. No, wait…” she pauses to laugh. She laughs so hard the tray of creamer she’s holding rattles. “Wait until the big day! Oh boy. Oh lord, I need to sit down. You think this is bad! Ha!” Sue is practically crying as she wanders off to see what the hell her table wants so badly, but she’s still laughing in the background when Jensen walks up to Jared’s table.

Jared looks up with watery, red eyes, and a little bit of snot on his face.

Jensen carries more than three handkerchiefs now, so he takes one out of his back left pocket and hands it over to Jared, who takes it and starts crying into it. Jensen assumes it’s safe to sit down and does so carefully. He places a gentle hand on Jared’s shoulder, but takes it back when it seems to make Jared cry harder.

On the table is a plate of unfinished hash browns covered in cheese and bacon. It’s unlike Jared to leave food on his plate.

“Hey,” Jensen says, his tone intentionally neutral.

When he gets no response from Jared—other than crying—he breaks out the big guns and prays that no one remembers this.

“Aw gee don’t cry tall man, we’ll figure it out! How’s about you come home with your old pal Goofy?”

There are many things that Jensen knows he’s good at—playing the guitar, giving blow jobs, and being cranky—and unfortunately, doing a spot on Mickey Mouse voice is one of them. It’s a gift and a curse.

But it gets Jared to stop crying.

“You’re embarrassing me,” Jared sniffles with a small smile.

Jensen shrugs. “I’ll do it again.”

Folding the handkerchief and playing with his silverware, Jared avoids eye contact. He looks tired. The energy from earlier has gone. “I… I’m sorry Punzel. I know I keep saying sorry and I know… one day you’re not gonna even wanna hear it from me but I’m sorry. All I wanna do is cry or scream at you, or worse, fuck you senseless.” True enough, Jared starts to cry again. “I can’t even apologize right! I’m sorry I yelled at you, I’m sorry I took your food away… I… I…”

He’s working himself up into panting, heaving breaths. Jensen pushes forward a glass of water and urges Jared to take a sip.

From the kitchen counter, Sue is watching. She gives Jensen a thumbs up.

Attention back onto Jared, Jensen reaches out with a clean handkerchief and wipes away gently at Jared’s face, cleaning up tears and whatever else. Hannah’s right. He’d never clean up the snot from someone’s nose or the tears from their eyes. He’s never cared so much.

“I’m here because I don’t know why,” Jensen says softly, looking at Jared directly. “That doesn’t make any sense but…” He sighs and dips another handkerchief into a spare glass of water. “I keep waiting to have an epiphany. For a moment to tell me that yeah, this is where I’m supposed to be. But it doesn’t work that way. And I know why.”

“Why? Why, Jen?” Jared asks, desperation and anxiety in his voice.

Jensen shrugs again but he smiles for a second. The noise in the pancake house gets a little softer and the other tables around them dim from view. This is a poem he knows well.

“Close your eyes,” he starts off, keeping his voice low and easy.

Jared listens. Jensen eases into the poem, words as familiar as a glove.

“A lover is standing too close to focus on. Leave me blurry and fall toward me with your entire body. Lie under the covers, pretending to sleep, while I’m in the other room. Imagine my legs crossed, my hair combed, the shine of my boots in the slanted light…”

Taking a deep breath, he keeps his voice deep, but picks up the tone to match a thrumming beat in his head. “We can do anything. It’s not because our hearts are large, they’re not, it’s what we struggle with… We have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven… I’ll give you my heart to make a place for it to happen, evidence of a love that transcends hunger. Is that too much to expect? That I would name the stars for you? That I would take you there? The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube? We’ve read the back of the book, we know what’s going to happen…”

Turning a point in the poem, he relaxes and stretches out. Jared still has his eyes closed but he’s listening, hooked, waiting, praying in the booth of a diner on La Plaza that’s open twenty-four hours and serves extra-large slices of fresh strawberry pie.

He finishes the poem strong, better than he’s ever recited it aloud and that was only once before, to himself after a period in his life he doesn’t like to talk about.

His tone is hungrier and commanding. He makes statements instead of questions.

“The way you slam your body into mine reminds me I’m alive, but monsters are always hungry, darling… I said This is the Moon. This is the Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take you there. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube. I am singing now while Rome burns. We are all just trying to be holy. My applejack, my silent night, just mash your lips against me. We are all going forward. None of us going back.”

How he went from doing the Mickey voice to quoting serious poetry, Jensen has no idea.

Jared opens his eyes and they look at each other like they’ve met for the first time.

But then this blush spreads from Jared’s ears, over the bridge of his nose. Jensen works to hold back his smirk.

“I… huh,” is all Jared can mumble out, mouth hanging open slightly.

“There is no one single moment, Jared,” Jensen says, taking out his wallet and leaving a twenty for Sue. “There is no epiphany because that’s not how life works. It’s about all the little things and shit like that. C’mon, apologize to me by staying with me tonight.”

He gets up from the table and helps Jared up after. Sue sends them off with two extra-large slices of fresh strawberry pie, extra, extra whipped cream on Jared’s.

“You quote a beautiful poem and then you say, ‘shit like that,’” Jared points out as Jensen helps him into the car. “You’re silly, Punzel.”

“Just think of what I’m gonna do when I’m really in trouble.”

“You’ll quote a whole book and say, ‘god damn fuck’ at the end?”

“Something like that.”

He drives the two minutes to Jared’s place, leaves the car running, and grabs Jared’s night things, which he hadn’t completely unpacked yet from the evening before. When he comes back to the car, Jared is asleep, face plastered against the car window, his nose smushed up in a way Jensen almost wants to take a picture of.

Two hours later, Jensen can’t sleep even though he should be trying to get rest.

He sits up in his bed with a reading light on as Jared snores away next to him. Half an hour later, he puts his book down and helps Jared up, walking with him to the bathroom. He waits outside and Jared emerges a few minutes later, hair a mess, eyes barely open, his pajamas wrinkled and out of place. Before Jensen eases him back onto the bed, he adjusts Jared’s shirt and gives him a drink of water.

It takes a while for Jared to feel comfortable—his back hurts again—but Jensen takes some advice from the book he was reading. He has to dig it up, but the heating pad on the lowest setting, pressed onto Jared’s lower back, does wonders.

An hour later, Jensen finally settles in for sleep.

 

That poem rattles around in his head. He kisses Jared’s forehead as they both lay on their sides facing each other.

He thinks about how vulnerable this position is for both of them.


	15. Chapter 15

The next morning, Jensen wakes up on time for work.

This time, Jared is next to him, snoring away, completely knocked out. Hannah mentioned something about Jared sleeping more often the closer he got to his due date, which is seven weeks away. He just passed twenty-five weeks and the doctors want him to get to thirty-two at the very least. Thirty-five would be optimal—great, considering they’re triplets—but the doctors are skeptical. Because Jared is so young, they want to hospitalize him at thirty two weeks and see where things go.

Jensen smirks at the thought of anyone trying to tell Jared he can’t leave a room.

He’s truly got his work cut out for him in that aspect.

For now, he listens to the steady rhythm of Jared’s breathing. Asleep on his back, with a small pillow underneath him, Jared looks peaceful and rested once again. Jensen wonders if Jared ever didn’t look handsome; he wonders if fifteen year old Jared ever had pimples, braces, or a squeaky voice.

Deep in sleep, Jared shifts a little, trying to turn onto his side. Jensen placed pillows near Jared’s belly the night before so he wouldn’t accidentally nudge Jared as they slept, and so Jared could turn over to rest his belly on one of them.

Once Jared settles again, Jensen gets up. He slips into a pair of boxers in case Hannah is still home. After his trip to the bathroom, he discovers that they're alone in the house this morning. In the kitchen, he sees her note. She’s staying over at her friend’s house for margarita night and will be home in time tomorrow to see them off for work.

“Don’t be an asshole,” is written at the bottom of the note, with a small heart next to it.

As Jensen makes breakfast he thanks his stars for Hannah's patience and understanding. He knows that many stepmothers would not let their stepson’s pregnant boyfriend stay with them. Not only does she let Jared stay over whenever he or Jensen want, she is purposefully giving them some time alone.

It’s beautiful outside—a good seventy degrees or so. Jensen makes two phone calls.

Because he’s been at Disney for more than a year, he can use a sick day without a problem. Jared has to take unpaid leave, but Jensen is fortunate and gets one of the nicer managers. Audrey knows he’s bullshitting the excuse that he’s having an allergic reaction and needs Jared to stay with him to make sure his throat doesn’t close up; but she owes him a favor when he covered for her two months ago so she could make out with one of the princesses on her break.

“I’ll say that I called him and told him not to come in,” she tells Jensen, keyboard clacking away in the background. “You two have fun with whatever.”

After that’s taken care of, Jensen calls a place and makes sure they’re open.

Loading things onto a breakfast tray, he wanders back to his room. Just as he sets the tray down on his desk, Jared starts to wake up. With a giant yawn and a few grunts, Jared pulls himself up so he sits against the headboard, scratching his head and stretching.

“Late for work,” he grumbles out, voice filled with sleep. “Punzel? You made me breakfast?”

“I made _us_ breakfast,” Jensen clarifies, bringing over the tray. “You have to share.”

“No I don’t,” Jared sniffs and picks up a piece of toast, munching on it then taking a sip of orange juice. “I’m eating for four.”

Jensen hands Jared his morning vitamins and a glass of water. “What’s gonna be your excuse after, tall man?”

With a snort, Jared quips back that after giving birth to triplets he should be allowed to do anything he wants because of that fact alone. Quietly, he thanks Jensen and digs in, finishing the veggie and cheese omelet Jensen made for him. Jensen followed some of the tips from a pregnancy cookbook; he mixed in powdered milk and added extra cheese and butter with the four eggs.

With breakfast, Jared eats four slices of wheat toast, two with strawberry jam that he licks off his fingers. He drinks a large glass of milk mixed with more powdered milk, a small glass of orange juice, and half a bottle of water. By the end of the meal, Jared is sleepy again, but he wants to walk around.

“I ate too much,” he groans as Jensen helps pull him up off the bed. “Punzel, why’d you let me eat so much?”

Helping Jared step into a pair of sweats, Jensen snorts. “Any time my hand went near a piece of toast you glared at me. I was afraid you’d bite my hand off.”

They banter back and forth as Jensen walks around the house with Jared. After two rounds around, they head out to the backyard. There isn’t much out in their yard—just patio furniture, a grill, and a sprinkler—but Jared goes out barefoot and asks Jensen to help lower him down onto the grass. For half an hour they lay side by side on the grass, both of them shirtless. Jared places Jensen’s hand on his belly and Jensen rubs until Jared starts to fall asleep.

“Not here,” Jensen whispers and nudges Jared up. “C’mon, I’ll open the window for you in my room.”

Back inside, Jared stops at the bathroom and Jensen picks up breakfast things. Once they’re back in his room, he lowers Jared onto the bed after they undress. Jared feels hot and uncomfortable; Jensen gives him a cold bottle of water and a cool, damp cloth. It’s ten in the morning by now.

“What’d you say?” Jared asks before he falls asleep. Jensen helped move him onto his left side.

“Not much,” he murmurs in response, sliding in beside Jared. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not in trouble?”

“No, you’re not in trouble.” Jensen wants to ask who cares if Jared got in trouble for calling in; he needs to rest. But he doesn’t want to start an argument so he leaves it at that. Hazel eyes close and Jensen isn’t too far behind.

They nap. A breeze drifts in every few minutes.

Sleep and rest are welcome.

 

At noon, Jensen wakes them up.

Jared kisses him.

They make out for ten minutes before Jensen insists they have to get up.

“Later,” he murmurs, his mouth near Jared’s. “I promise.”

 

In record time they shower, dress, and get out of the house. Jensen helps Jared into the front seat and gives him a baggie full of veggies to snack on and a bottle of water.

“Where are you taking us?” Jared asks, lowering his window, his hair wild in the wind.

“Guess.”

“Uhm… the museum!”

“Nope.”

“The park?”

“Nah.”

“A tattoo parlor!”

Jensen laughs. “Pretty sure they don’t do tattoos on pregnant people.”

“ _You_ would be getting the tattoo, jerk. You just want me there to hold your hand I bet. Or maybe you’re getting a piercing. Jen, don’t get your cock pierced, please. Please!”

“Do you have to say that so loud?!” he shrieks and merges onto the freeway.

Of course Jared just laughs, tossing his head back, laughter clear and bright. “No one can hear us, Punzel. So is that where we’re going? You gonna get some nipple rings? Belly button piercing? Ooh maybe a tongue ring. But please, don’t get your cock pierced. Think about yourself when you’re an old man peeing every two minutes. Don’t look at me that way! I’m just telling you the truth—someone has to!”

For the entire twenty minute drive, Jared keeps guessing what kinds of piercings and tattoos Jensen is going to get.

It’s not until Jensen parks outside their actual stop that Jared goes silent.

“Punzel,” Jared gasps, opening the car door before Jensen has turned it off completely. Jared’s eyes are wide with excitement. “Hurry up and help me out! C’mon! What are you waiting for?”

At command, Jensen does as is ordered.

It’s a bakery café that he found on a rainy day two years ago. He got lost on his way back to Anaheim from Santa Ana. After he took a series of wrong turns, he eventually decided to pull over. At the end of the strip mall he found this place. He revisits every six months or so. There’s a line but that’s okay; Jared is humming and asking people around them what’s good.

“Jen, what are you getting?”

“I’m ordering for both of us.”

Jared makes a face. “How do you know what I want to eat?”

“You’ll eat anything.” They both take a step forward in line. “Trust me on this one, okay?” Jared nods but continues trying to peek inside.

Cream Pan is a Japanese bakery café. The first time he dragged himself in out of the rain, the owner was working the counter and gave him a free cup of coffee to go with the single item he had enough cash for. This is a fond memory about an otherwise awful day, Jensen can’t help but smile about it now. He moves a little closer to Jared and slips his arm around Jared’s waist, who makes a happy but surprised noise at the gesture.

The line moves forward at a good pace considering that it’s lunchtime. Jared wiggles in Jensen’s hold and looks around the café like it’s too good to be true. Once they reach the case, Jensen orders. He gets six hot dog croissants, three ham and cheese croissants, two egg salad sandwiches, a salad, two large bottles of water, and a coffee for himself. He gets desserts too, but he asks for those to be boxed up: a dozen strawberry croissants, half a dozen banana croissants, and two green tea mousse pastries for Hannah.

It takes two trays to carry what they order to eat there and two bags for their takeout. Their only problem is the lack of seating, even the outdoor tables are full.

“Just hang on and move quickly,” Jared murmurs to him, taking both trays into his hands. 

Jensen watches as Jared walks past a table of two older women who have finished eating but are sticking around, chatting. He holds the trays shakily and lets out a gasp, followed by a long, pained groan. Jensen nearly rushes forward. He stops as the scene unfolds.

Both of the ladies get up and rush over to help Jared, insisting that he take a seat that instant.

“Oh, I’m sorry, thank you so much,” Jared cries, waterworks on command. “My husband told me to find a spot to sit and I… these trays are so heavy and… thank you…”

Jensen inches near but thinks twice about it when he hears one of the ladies exclaim, “You poor thing! You shouldn’t be carrying those in your condition! Where is your husband?”

Oh, he’s going to kill Jared.

“That’s him,” Jared sniffs, nodding over at Jensen. “Honey, these nice ladies offered their table I swear! It’s not too sunny, right? He hates the sun,” he tells one of the ladies with another cry. “Don’t you dear?”

He doesn’t even have time to sit before there are two gray haired women chastising him for treating Jared so badly, for making him carry things, for forcing him to walk more than he has to, and for thinking of his own comfort before his pregnant spouse’s. Jared flashes Jensen a smirk before crying again, thanking the ladies loudly and adding, “God bless you both, oh thank you so much.”

Issuing threats of calling the police on men like him, the ladies leave. Jensen sits down and holds his arms out. “What the fuck was that?!”

Jared unwraps a hot dog and hands it to Jensen. “Honey, remember your blood pressure.”

“There is nothing wrong with my blood pressure, Jared!” He takes a bite out of his food and grumbles through it, muttering that there _was_ nothing wrong with his blood pressure before he met Jared.

“If I have to be as big as a small aircraft, I’m entitled to some pity from rude old ladies who sit at an empty table when there’s obviously people waiting for one.” A moment later, in a softer voice, Jared adds a thank you.

Over good food, good coffee, and the sound of Jared’s voice as he talks about what and how the babies are doing today, Jensen unwinds.

It feels nice to play hooky.

 

On the ride back home Jared talks about his appointment at the hospital tomorrow.

It’s his twenty-five week checkup. They’ll run urine and blood tests, take his height and weight, do an ultrasound, and conduct a pelvic exam. Jensen asks him if he knows what the babies are but Jared shakes his head. He wants it to be a surprise.

“You can’t tell much on the ultrasound anyway,” Jared comments and slips his hand into Jensen’s as they drive back on the five. “It’s really fuzzy. They look like blobs.”

“You just called your children blobs.”

Jared laughs, shrugs, and makes a face. He exhales sharply and clutches onto the door. “Little blobs that roll around on my bladder. Jen, pull over.”

“I’m going sixty, Jared! Can’t you hold it?”

“Nope, nope, nope. Gotta pee right now. _Now_!”

On the side of the road, with Jensen acting as a privacy wall, Jared pees and talks about the weather.


	16. Chapter 16

The strawberry croissants from Cream Pan don’t last long.

Half of them are devoured on a park bench in the afternoon sun, while Jared and Jensen hold hands. 

Despite the noise that comes from kids on skateboards and soccer moms gossiping, Jensen feels that his world is tranquil, lulled by the steady back and forth motion of Jared’s thumb on his hand. Jensen’s hands are rough from work, though he would prefer that it was from playing his guitar. Jared doesn’t seem to mind; his hands are soft, smooth, and always warm no matter what.

Jensen finds a great deal of comfort whenever they’re on him, even in play.

Since when did he get so lax?

There is no wall up, no grumbling, no pretense of apathy.

Strange.

An hour ago, he received a text from Rhonda, informing him that the scene kids were having a cast member party at someone’s house near La Palma, about ten minutes away. Like any typical cast member party,there was a promised abundance of booze, drugs, music, and whatever sex they could sneak in while jammed into closets or bathrooms. Jensen had been to one once. He ended up drunkenly making out with a girl from Dumbo. Rhonda promises that this party would be nothing like that; this time, he’ll have fun.

He texted her back, full of Cream Pan and sweet, sticky kisses.

Jared sighs and rests his head on Jensen’s shoulder.

They sit as long as they want to.

 

In Jensen’s room a few hours later, Jared rests on his bed.

He pulls Jensen forward and captures his mouth—firm, with an easy confidence.

The only sound above Jensen's heartbeat is the steady, low sound of them kissing. Jared’s mouth is generous and pink, tantalizing and slick by the time a hand trails up Jensen’s thigh. Jensen groans at the movement, anticipating the next move and curving into Jared. On his knees, he leans over to kiss Jared deeper.

Their noses bump. Jared breathes in what Jensen breathes out.

A soft, languid moan from Jensen is swallowed, eaten up, and devoured whole as Jared grips Jensen's cock with long, elegant fingers. Stroked to hardness, Jensen aches. He can’t remember what his spine felt like before these tingles and sparks of pleasure. Jared’s hand remains firm.

From the double windows to the right of the bed, sunlight filters over them in slivers of tangerine. 

Jensen moves to touch Jared, to return the feelings.

“Jen,” Jared whispers. He presses his mouth over Jensen's and speaks in a growl. “Say something sweet to me.”

Pausing, they separate from each other. Jensen licks his lips, the taste of Jared still on them. Strange that he feels—that he allows himself to feel—a connection with the person in front of him, spread out in utter loveliness.

He shut himself off from this very feeling for so long. Brick by brick, he has been giving permission for the wall to lower, so he could let his hair down. What he said to Jared in the diner is nothing but the core of what he believes: there is no one moment. 

“Before I start,” Jensen murmurs, setting aside his hunger, “tell me what I need to know.”

Jared laughs and cries at the same time, a few tears making an appearance.

Despite the tears, Jensen is glad he asked.

 


	17. Chapter 17

Jensen has to wear a condom.

He didn't know this until now. 

Jared doesn't have his own condoms, so Jensen digs one of his out from his nightstand. As Jared reads the packet, he explains that there's something in come that could potentially soften something inside him. It would put him into early labor--not something anyone wants. He approves of Jensen's choice in brand and hands it back. Their hands touch for a moment longer.

They're doing this.

Jensen has never been nervous about sex before. He's never bitten his bottom lip in anxiety or felt his face flush from making eye contact with a pair of hazel eyes. His mouth meets Jared's, and a wave of kisses sweeps between them. Eyes closed, Jensen feels himself gradually lay back. 

It’s better if Jared rides him, so he can control the pace and depth. However, Jared is worried he might be too heavy. Jensen assures that he’s not made of glass—he can handle Jared’s weight and then some. If for any reason he can’t, he’ll say. This is the pact they make with each other: if someone doesn't like something, they'll say.

It's a deal. 

For the next part, Jared avoids making eye contact. He's not sure how to say it, so he blurts it out. He murmurs that his belly feels good rubbed and touched, but if it freaks Jensen out he doesn’t have to do anything. Jensen promises to try. He's never had sex with someone pregnant. 

The only concern Jensen has is hurting Jared or the babies. What if he thrusts too hard?

Kissing Jensen on the nose, Jared assures him that he can’t be hurt by penetration. Their movements will feel like rocking. It might, he adds, help stop the babies from kicking his ribs for a while.

From one of the books Jensen has read, he knows that orgasms are beneficial for Jared. He just doesn’t want to hurt him. Concerns are chased away as lies down on his side and started blowing him. They make eye contact and Jensen lets out a groan, biting down on his bottom lip, whining when he feels his cock press against the back of Jared’s throat. Wet and filthy, Jared’s head bobs, one hand cupping Jensen’s balls and rolling them back and forth, pulling with the exact amount of pressure to feel good. Suckling on the bloated head, Jared runs his tongue underneath the sensitive crown. 

With a pop, Jared pauses, panting and his face flushed.

He wipes his mouth and casts a shy smile. 

“I’m not gonna last long,” he admits softly, hefting himself up to sit. “But I can do multiples.”

Relaxed and sensitive all over, Jensen mumbles, “Lucky.”

“Not really,” Jared snorts. “Jen… I’m… I’m not gonna lie. I really want you.” He places a hand on Jensen’s chest. “Is this okay?”

There is something there that Jensen has to think about for a moment.

He figures it out from the furrow in Jared’s brow and the worried look in his eyes. Sitting up to join Jared, they kiss; he shivers when he tastes himself. “I want you too,” he replies simply. “Long as you would have me.”

“I would…” Jared breathes and presses their foreheads together. Again, there’s something there, but it remains unspoken. Jensen leaves it for now.

He passes a condom to Jared, who rolls it onto him without a problem.

And then, Jensen hands him something else.

“A cock ring?” Jared asks, holding it up, looking at it curiously.

With a nod, Jensen asserts that he wants to last a while so he can give Jared those orgasms. He doesn’t mind; the ring doesn’t hurt, and he’ll let Jared know when he needs to have it taken off. The look on Jared’s face turns from grateful to dangerous. Jensen snickers when the ring is placed on him, snug on the base of his cock. Jared snatches the lube from its place on the bed.

He suggests opening Jared up before, so it won’t hurt, but Jared shakes his head, applying some lube on himself, reaching back and sighing at the action. “I’ll be fine, Jen,” he insists and wipes his hand on the bed sheet. Jensen offers his hands and Jared takes them, pushing against Jensen as he hefts himself over Jensen’s hips, belly hanging round and low, his cock as hard as Jensen’s. They continue to hold hands, Jared steadying himself, angling his hips so that the tip of Jensen’s cock is posed right near his hole.

“Can you? Please?” Jared whispers, trembling slightly.

“I might mess up some lines.”

“That’s okay. Please?”

The bed creaks as Jared works his hips down, pushing the head of Jensen’s cock inside him. Without prep, it’s almost painful for both of them, but Jared relaxes and squeezes Jensen’s hands, breathing out loudly, belly heaving. Little by little, Jared’s hole opens up and he slides down an inch.

Voice twisted by a moan as pressured heat wraps around him, Jensen starts.

“My heart aches, and drowsy numbness pains my senses, as if hemlock I had drunk.” He gasps when Jared forces himself down another inch, rocking backwards, breath hitching and a moan wracked from him. Line by line Jensen recites, his voice rough and shaky. Jensen fills Jared to the hilt, his cock twitching against clenched, wet muscles.

Without the ring he would have lost it. He knows this now, watching Jared’s mouth open and his throat curve into the most elegant line. Pushing his hips out, arching and stretching, Jared is taking it all in. He lifts his hips to pull Jensen out, only the head lodged inside, then sits back, pushing another inch of Jensen inside.

“Don’t stop,” he pleads when Jensen pauses. “I’m fine, I’m okay…”

Their fingers are laced tightly together.

Reassured, Jensen starts up again. He keeps his thrusts shallow despite the immense pressure over his cock and the urgency in his head that demands more, more, and more. 

“Oh, for a draught of vintage that hath been cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth, tasting of…uhn.. flora and the country green...”

Jensen stops to moan, his hips bucking at the sight of Jared kneeling above him, taking in his cock. “Dance and Provencal song and sunburnt mirth. Oh for a beaker of the warm South, full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene with beaded bubbles winking at the brim and the purple-stained mouth…” Jensen throws his head back and cries out when he feels Jared fully seated on his cock, the muscles in Jared’s ass clenching around him, sucking him in and holding him there, deep and bloated.

“Don’t stop!” Jared mewls in desperation, his hands shaking against Jensen’s. It takes a minute for Jared to adjust, to tentatively rock himself backwards and forwards.

His voice wrecked already, Jensen could cry. “That I might drink and leave the world unseen and with thee fade away into the forest dim…”

The bed squeaks as Jared bounces on his lap, not pulling up, instead only rocking. Jensen feels the tip of his cock push against something soft; Jared falls apart and takes his hands away from Jensen’s. He places them on Jensen’s thighs and leans back, closing his eyes. When Jensen brings his hands to Jared’s belly, on either side of its wide expanse, Jared shouts and starts trembling all over. “Don’t stop,” he begs again, tossing his head back.

Lines? Jensen gasps as the feeling of Jared coming from riding his cock. “Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget what thou… ahh… among the leaves hast never known, the weariness… hah… the fever, and the fret here where men sit and hear each other groan… oh fuck…” He pushes his hips up and Jared starts shooting ropes of come, untouched.

“Jensen!” Jared screams, his load as heavy as the last time. “Oh! Jensen, I’m… Jensen! Yes, yes, yes… ahhh!” Two strings of come hit Jensen’s throat; the rest, streaks his chest and middle, weaker ones lace the underside of Jared’s belly. Eyes fluttering, Jared reaches out for Jensen’s hands again.

He skips some of the sadder lines, taking Jared’s hands and trying to catch his breath. Watching Jared come makes him swell against the ring; he doesn’t know which is worse—the pressure from being inside Jared or the grip of the ring. Jared catches his breath and starts moving his hips again, this time pulling off a few inches and grinding down. He is heavy but Jensen can take it.

“Away, away, for I will fly to thee, fuck, uhn…” Jensen starts moving against Jared, trying to time his thrusts upwards with Jared’s pushes downwards. “Not… not charioted by Bacchus and his pards… uh… but on the viewless wings of Posey… already with thee! Jared! Oh fuck! Tender is the night! Jared! Mother of fuck!”

He’s pretty sure Keats never intended this poem to be recited like this.

Jared is working his cock, fucking himself on it with a desperation and force that leaves tears in Jensen’s eyes. Jared is gone; his eyes are closed and he’s pure motion, his hands now resting on Jensen’s shoulders. Along with the bed squeaking and the headboard pounding against the wall, Jensen can hear the squelch of lube and the sounds of them together, messy and constant. Jared begs him to keep going and he tries, he gets a few more lines in before Jared comes again, screaming and arching over.

“Fuck me, oh please,” Jared whines, his voice breaking, hazel eyes open and filled with heat.

Jared holds his hips still and with his hands, keeps his ass spread open. Jensen holds onto his belly, rubbing over it, holding it between his hands with care.

“But here there is no light, save what from heaven is with the breezes blown… fuck… fuck… through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, nor what soft incense hands upon the boughs, but, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet wherewith the seasonable month endows… Jared…”

He can’t. The pressure in his balls is too much. There’s more pain than there is pleasure, even though his cock fucks into Jared without resistance, heavy and throbbing. Jared nods but starts moving again. Jensen shifts them so that his thighs support Jared as he leans back.

Jared is close to a third; Jensen can feel it. He does a swivel of his hips that causes Jensen to cry out. “Oh god please, Jay, let me come! Please, baby, please!”

Another swivel and Jensen groans in pain, his hips stuttering. He feels Jared reach back, struggling for a moment with the clasp of the ring. They’re both close to coming. Jensen tenses up.

“Jared, I can’t…” he’s crying now, the ring still on him. “Please baby…”

“Come on my stomach, Jen,” Jared pants, fucking down on him, fingers pressing at Jensen’s cock before his cock disappears back inside. “Come on me.”

"Uh huh," Jensen breathes, flinching when he feels Jared pull them apart.

Jared breathes hard, flushed all over, and sits in the space between Jensen’s thighs as he peels the condom off Jensen. The feeling causes Jensen to swear loudly, banging a fist against the headboard. Jared rubs their cocks together, and then rubs his belly over Jensen’s cock for a minute, finally taking off the ring. Jensen reaches down and lifts his hips up, stroking his cock, instinctively aiming for the widest part of Jared’s belly. He gasps at the sight and shouts through his orgasm like he’s never done before. Jared comes a few seconds later, both of them getting off on the sight of Jensen’s come coating Jared’s belly.

It’s like all breath has been punched out of him.

Every part of him thrums with tingling, delicious pain and deep, striking pleasure. His cock spurts longer than he’s used to, and he wrings out every drop, taking his hand off his cock only when it’s too painful to keep touching.

Jared sits, his legs stretched out on either side of Jensen, and his messy belly rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath. They look at each other and blush; no one expected that to be so hot. Although Jensen feels a little bit of nagging shame for being so turned on by the action and the sight, he can’t help but reach out and rub Jared’s belly, mixing his come into Jared’s skin.

Carefully, he helps Jared lie down on his side.

He will handle the clean up.

And in a few minutes, he’ll order dinner and they’ll nap until it arrives.

Then maybe they’ll watch a movie. Maybe they’ll do this again.

For now, Jensen kisses Jared tenderly. They both sigh into each other. Jared quietly asks that Jensen not clean up just yet, that he lie down with him for just a second.

Jensen notices how tightly Jared is holding onto him as they lie face to face.

As their breathing slows, Jensen murmurs the last few lines he can remember.

“Darkling I listen; and, for many a time, I have been half in love with easeful Death, call’d him soft names in many a mused rhyme.”

Breathing Jared in, Jensen sighs and gets comfortable. Jared smells so good, like the open sunshine of the park, clean sweat, and something sweeter underneath that Jensen can’t name.

“Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—to thy high requiem become a sod…”

Jared’s eyes close and his breathing steadies with a happy sigh. Jensen cards his fingers through Jared’s hair and presses a kiss to his forehead. He skips down to the last few lines, his favorite, yawning slightly.

“Adieu, adieu they plaintive anthem fades past the near meadows, over the still stream up the hill-side; and now tis buried deep in the next valley-glades: was it a vision, or a waking dream?”

Feather light, he presses a kiss to Jared’s lips.

“Fled is that music…”

Jensen holds onto Jared just as tight.

“Do I wake… or sleep?” 


	18. Chapter 18

“How many poems do you know?”

Jared asks this at four in the morning, because he can’t sleep. After sex, Jared slept like a rock. Six hours after, he's wide awake and so are the babies. Sleep was good while it lasted.

Jensen takes out the tube of lotion to rub over Jared’s belly. With the heat pad on and Jensen carefully rubbing clockwise, they lay in bed together.

“Lots,” Jensen murmurs into the soft patch of skin under Jared’s ear. “Why?”

Sighing happily, Jared closes his eyes, relaxed and warm.

“You’ll never run out of them for me, will you, Punzel?”

Movement under Jensen's hand has come to a stop. It seems like everyone can settle back to sleep. Jensen reaches over to turn off the lamp. He has to work in a few hours and Jared has to prep for his check-up. 

They still need to talk. Except, there’s so much to talk about that Jensen has no idea where to start. Still, those are not heir worries right now; those are the concerns that belong to daytime.

He kisses Jared’s cheek and pulls the covers over them.

“Nope, not running out any time soon.”

The bed squeaks as they tangle their feet together and settle in.

“Good.”

 

Just a few hours later, Jensen reluctantly leaves his bed.

He peels himself off of Jared, who grunts in his sleep, but keeps snoring away. While trying to mentally prepare himself for work, Jensen looks around his room. There are piles of Jared’s clothes, clusters of vitamins and medicines, and a few books scattered around. They would be neatly put together, but Jensen isn’t that organized and Jared hasn’t fixed the piles yet.

Lazily, Jensen sits on the edge of his bed, putting off the inevitable. He can’t visualize getting into the shower, much less being in the car on the way to work.

It’s a big day for Jared and he wants to be there. However, Jared hasn't asked him anything.

Before he leaves, he writes a note and places it on the morning vitamin pile, where he knows Jared will see it. He has to blast music extra loud in his car and he can’t stop yawning when he clocks in. Some of the cast members from Dumbo mention how tired he looks since they’ve last seen him. He waves them off with a few scowls.

Because Jerry did the daily schedule, Jensen has the shittiest day ahead of him, all of it involving nonstop smiling. He’s doing back to back tours and when he demands to know why, Jerry smugly tells him that many cast members would love to trade places with him.

Jensen knows that Storybook isn’t one of the more exciting or popular rides, but that’s also why he wheedled being promoted here over anywhere else in the park. The attraction doesn’t go more than ten miles an hour so kids don’t puke, and frat boys and teenagers in general don’t see the point of standing in line with toddlers and families just to look at detailed miniatures. Landscaping is the hardest part of the job, however, when it’s balanced with giving tours, where he gets to sit down, it’s not so bad. Upkeep of the miniatures is relegated to senior cast members who are typically art majors or apprentices or interns or whatever.

Since Jensen showed some promise with trimming and pruning, Mr. Yamamoto asked for him to be allowed to help with landscaping, even if he does clip too quickly.

Once the first of a thousand tours is over, Jensen heaves a sigh and rubs his face.

He can’t smile to crowds of strangers when he’s worried about Jared being alone in the house. It’s not like Jared can’t pick up the phone and call if he needs help, but Jensen, according to Jared, loves to worry.

The next tour fills the boat and Jensen plasters on a smile for them, making different jokes this time around and trying his best not to sound bored or like he’s rehearsed these lines. He points out the trees in the Black Forest behind the Seven Dwarves’ house and receives oohs and ahhs as he tells them the trees are over a hundred years old.

It’s to his fortune that most of the guests on this boat are older ladies--a boat full of gray-haired, sweater clad miniatures enthusiasts who ask the most annoying and complicated questions. But by the end of the tour, the whole group calls him a sweetheart and a dear. They also sneak him a twenty dollar tip for the extra information. It’s not entirely extra what he tells them—Disney’s obsession with miniatures is fairly well-known—but they get a kick out of it, especially the details on how exact Imagineers are when it comes to scale and detail. They’re a technical bunch, so he concentrated more on the specifics than on the stories. He's a hit.

Jensen knows Jerry is seething when the miniatures group demands a picture with Jensen in front of the boat. Jensen is sure to smile extra big.

At lunch, Jensen stops by Gibson’s and gets an ice cream. He texts a picture of it to Jared, who replies with a text two minutes later, “Fuck you Punzel, I’ve been hacking all morning.”

Jensen turns the camera to take a picture of himself happily licking the cone, sure to make his expression extra smug. Not a minute later comes a reply. “Don’t. Don’t do that to me.”

When he gets back from break, in a much better mood, Rhonda informs him that Jerry has switched his schedule so that now he’s on landscaping duties. The mice report that Jerry has it out for Jensen _and_ Jared but there’s nothing he can do about Jared since it would violate state employment laws. He asks if the mice are serious or if they are the scene kids talking in a fit of paranoia.

“Did you know Mr. Yamamoto owns his own private gardens?” Rhonda mentions as Jensen hefts his tool belt on.

“Huh, no,” he grunts and smears on sunscreen. “Why?”

Rhonda shrugs. “Dunno. Some of the mice say he’s retiring soon.”

“Wish _I_ could retire soon.” That’s all he chooses to say about the topic because sometimes chatter about someone retiring gets twisted into wishing someone would quit or get fired. Mr. Yamamoto is strict and not always the cheeriest cast member, but he usually lets Jensen do his own thing and doesn’t force him to talk or smile when the suits aren’t around. By himself, he finishes the list of daily basic trimming but he doesn’t dare touch Cinderella’s Castle—that’s Mr. Yamamoto’s territory and he hasn’t given Jensen clearance to maintain it.

At three-thirty, Jensen gets a text and sneaks a peek at his phone. Jared is wondering where he is.

Too busy with a situation at Dumbo, Jim doesn't notice that Jensen leaves ten minutes early.

 

“I wasn’t sure you’d want me with.”

“Of course I’d want you with!”

“Well… you didn’t ask.”

“I didn’t think I had to ask the guy I’m fucking to come with me to the fucking hospital… slow down! You’re going too fast!”

It’s not common for Jared to swear but at the moment, he’s lost his no-swearing policy. Jensen slows down a little and drives up to the hospital entrance to get a wheelchair for Jared and hopefully not veer the car into the curb. When he got home Jared was moaning in pain; the babies are moving a lot, kicking his ribs, and his back is hurting. Naturally, he protests Jensen’s help from out of the car and the wheelchair a kind but misguided and unfortunate valet offers.

At least Jensen gets a look of sympathy from the valet.

“We’re late,” Jared snaps as Jensen holds the door open to the doctor’s office. “I told you not to take your shortcut and now we’re late!”

“We aren’t late,” Jensen pleads, about to cry before Jared does. “I didn’t take any shortcut!”

“Don’t shout at me!”

“I’m not shouting!”

There is one other couple in the waiting room, a husband and wife that look like they stepped forward from a conservative Christian romance novel. They look nothing like Jensen or Jared—Jensen who is still in his rumpled work uniform and Jared who is five kinds of angry and has to pee, as he announces after signing in.

When they’re finally in a room, Jensen helps Jared onto the examination table. There are scary looking stirrups and a small table filled with equally scary looking instruments. Machines that look almost like stereo equipement surround them. Jared groans, clutching at his belly, and holds onto Jensen’s hands so hard he’s a little frightened.

“She looked so pretty and… uhn… put together…” Jared grits out, eyes closed.

Jensen starts rubbing Jared's belly, feeling a lot of movement, and none of it stops even after he’s rubbed for a minute. “Who? Who’re you talking about?”

“That lady in the waiting room, fuck,” he huffs out. “Jen, I need to get up. I need to walk.”

“Okay, okay, just hold on.” Jensen leans down and lets Jared wrap his arms around his neck. Together, they push off the table and Jared slides off the table, back onto his slipper-clad feet. “Why do you care about someone in the waiting room?”

This is the wrong question.

Sobbing starts and Jensen doesn’t catch all of what Jared says but he gets that Jared wishes he looked so put together during his pregnancy, that he feels giant and bloated today, that he kept throwing up today, and he really, really enjoyed sex last night. Jensen has never had anyone compliment him for sex while sobbing. “You need to calm down, Jared. You’re working yourself up.”

This is the wrong thing to say.

Like a switch, Jared goes from crying to upset, angrily snapping that it’s Jensen’s fault the orange juice he drank this morning set off a chain reaction of vomit and diarrhea. It’s also Jensen’s fault that Jared ate two strawberry croissants for breakfast and couldn’t keep them down and now they’ve been wasted and how dare he keep Jared waiting today.

When the doctor shows up, Jensen almost throws himself at her. She’s an older lady, short and dressed in a simple suit underneath her white coat. She has on pearl earrings and cream colored high heels on; her hair is red and she reminds Jensen of Lucille Ball.

“My goodness,” she says, shocked at the sight of the two of them. “I think we all need to take a deep breath.”

If Jensen had suggested that, Jared would have smote him, smote him good.

But Jared just grumbles something, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. The doctor instructs him to take another breath and another, until Jared is crying again, begging Jensen to forgive him.

“Looks like you are both having fun with your miracles,” Doctor Linda chirps with a smile, flipping through Jared’s chart. She reads through it for a moment then extends her hand to Jensen. “You must be Jensen. I’ve heard all about you.”

“Did he tell you how I take shortcuts and make us late?” Jensen grumbles and regrets it when Jared cries harder. “Shit, Jared, I didn’t mean it…”

Doctor Linda steps in and helps Jared onto the table. “Nothing but good things, I assure you Jensen. It’s alright Jared, take a few more deep breaths. There we go. Wonderful.” She leaves his side and flips through his chart once more. There’s a bunch of technical stuff that she goes through that leaves Jensen confused but she slows it down for him. “Today is a very important check-up for Jared and the babies. He’s in his third trimester, the homestretch now. Our main concern is getting daddy and the kids to thirty-two weeks, thirty-five if possible. I’ve only seen a few triplet parents carry to thirty-five, and only one to thirty-seven. No more than thirty-seven since it becomes dangerous for parent and babies.” A button on the bed is clicked, Jared is told to hold still.

Some numbers pop up and Doctor Linda announces that Jared is underweight. This is not welcome news.

“But I’m _huge_ ,” he insists, wiping his tears away and sniffling.

“I wouldn’t say huge,” she says with a smile and Jensen is impressed. “You’re ten pounds under where I need you to be—where your children need you to be. Twenty-five weeks means they’re viable. Do you know what that means, Jensen?”

He’s a little thrown off by the question but he answers it anyway. Doctor Linda nods and pats Jared’s hand. “He’s been reading. That’s very good. Each baby weighs about a pound and a half now, they’ll all be about twelve inches long. They’re in a good place now, and we’ll check you out, but there’s still a lot left for your body to do—gaining weight included.”

As she sets up a few machines and helps Jared change into a paper gown, Doctor Linda emphasizes to both of them that while the babies are viable, they would require intensive care and most likely have long lasting effects from being born prematurely if Jared went into labor right now. They want to avoid that at all costs, so Jensen’s responsibility is to pay attention for signs that Jared is in pain or experiencing preterm labor.

“They won’t stop moving,” Jared grumbles, back on the table, sitting up. “My back is killing me. I can’t stop throwing up today.”

The office is small but roomy enough for Jensen to stand at the tableside without getting in the way.

“Of course they’re moving sweetie, they’re trying to get extra room. Space is precious inside there. Are they rib kickers?” She hands Jensen a bottle of something that looks like lotion. “You get to put the jelly on so I can do the ultrasound. Do we want pictures today?”

Jared’s eyes light up but sadden soon after. “Yes please,” he murmurs and hisses at the coolness of the jelly. “They’re _all_ rib kickers.” Doctor Linda nods and replies that everything Jared is describing is very common, although unfortunately uncomfortable. She takes his blood pressure, pulse, and breathing rate now that he’s calmed down—everything looks good.

Writing this all down, she mentions that his blood pressure is a little on the high side but it’s not outside the range of normal. Before she does the ultrasound she works magic with her stethoscope. Then, as she’s moving the wand over Jared’s belly, she asks Jensen a few questions.

“How’s it been for you, Jensen? Any cravings? Mood swings?”

“Uh… I’m not the one who’s pregnant.”

“No shit,” Jared huffs from his place, sticking out his tongue at Jensen.

Doctor Linda laughs then holds the wand out to Jensen. “Here, hold right there. I’m asking because a lot of partners experience pregnancy symptoms similar to parents. See here? Baby one is covering their face. Can you see their hands?”

She seems to see everything—hands, feet, elbows—but Jensen agrees with Jared: they look like blobs. But he’s awed by the ultrasound. He presses the wand down a little too hard and feels a kick. Jared groans and swats at Jensen, snaps at him to quit playing around, but they look at each other and Jensen is speechless. He’s felt them before but he’s never seen _and_ felt them.

Quietly, he says, “Jay… there’s life inside you.”

Hazel eyes brim with happy tears. “Yeah, Jen.”

 

Just a few minutes later, Doctor Linda informs Jared that she doesn’t think he will be able to deliver any of the babies naturally. All three need to be head first and so far, only one feels like cooperating. She gives him a list of things to try naturally in hopes that the babies might turn, but she reminds him not to get his hopes up. As Jared holds the wand and asks some questions, she draws two vials of blood from him. Doctor and patient chat about Jared’s new eating plan, along with exercises he needs to do to stay healthy and help his back.

Before the end of the appointment—which has gone by surprisingly fast—Doctor Linda looks over at Jensen. “Are you feeling left out?”

“No ma’am,” he answers honestly but gets a smile that can’t mean anything good. “What?” he looks at Jared. “What’s going on?”

He has no chance at escaping.

Doctor Linda straps a body suit onto his front, where a fake pregnancy belly hangs awkwardly and throws him off balance. “Wait,” she chirps and digs around in the drawers under the exam table. “That’s my singleton suit. You’ll need more. This is about where Jared’s at right now.” She piles on pillows stuffed with wheat and rice onto his middle. Jared laughs, snorting from the sight.

“Jesus fuck,” Jensen mutters and turns to the side, knocking over the clipboard on the counter. “How the fuck do you move?” He can’t help but wobble forward; leaning back to regain his sense of balance or to just stand straight, takes a lot of effort. The fake belly juts out, hanging there and preventing a view of his feet.

“There’s a suit at the college,” Doctor Linda says with a laugh of her own, “that has lead weights inside, a rib belt to constrict your breathing, and a pouch that represents the baby’s head on your bladder. This is the minor leagues. I’m not going to make you take it home and wear it at night, like I do with other partners. You seem to be pretty helpful from what I hear.”

“Very helpful,” Jared chimes in, beaming at Jensen. “Look at you, Punzel, you can’t walk!”

He would never call the way Jared walks waddling, but when he does it with the fake belly, Jensen knows he is definitely waddling. There's nothing graceful about his movements. Before he topples over, he leans on the counter.

Patient and doctor trade stories as Jared receives a pelvic exam and Jensen does not dare to amble around, his entire world is tilted. “Are you having sex?” she asks as she lifts one of the scarier instruments and positions Jared’s feet on the stirrups. Jared answers honestly, at ease with her, which Jensen figures someone has to be when they’re getting poked at down there. They talk shop—she applauds the condom use since there might be something in Jensen’s come that triggers labor and it’s best not to tempt fate.

She suggests that they try having sex in a Jacuzzi or a pool if they can manage, without the heat on and definitely without the jets. The water will take pressure off of Jared’s back and will be good exercise for everyone. Having sex more often, she adds, will lessen his nausea and migraines. In addition to the list of exercises Jared should be doing, plus a new eating plan, she includes a list of breathing exercises and meditation that are good for both of them to try out. The pelvic exam is done and she announces that Jared and miracles are all healthy. The lab work will be done by the next day but she expects that to come back normal; she congratulates him on having a healthy pregnancy.

When they look over to Jensen, he’s not a pretty picture.

“I can’t breathe,” he wheezes, clinging to the counter for dear life. “Can I not be pregnant anymore?”

As Jared gets dressed, Doctor Linda comes over to where Jensen has been trying not to pass out at. “They never last more than fifteen minutes,” she sings, rescuing Jensen, unstrapping the suit and tucking it away for the next victim. “Can you imagine quadruplets? Quintuplets?”

No one is surprised when both Jared _and_ Jensen groan.


	19. Chapter 19

Before they leave, Doctor Linda asks Jensen to step out for a moment and wait at the end of the hallway. He does so, somewhat hesitantly, but gets a paper cup of water for Jared and waits.

Ten minutes later, Jared walks out of the office. He wraps his arms around Jensen as tight as he can.

“Thank you,” Jared whispers, sniffling a little. “Thank you for being here.”

Jensen hands the cup of water to Jared, then reaches into his back pocket for a handkerchief. He wipes away Jared's tears and kisses Jared’s forehead.

“Thanks for having me,” he replies and slips his hand into Jared’s.

They leave Doctor Linda’s office in a much better place than before.

 

Despite their best intentions, Jared and Jensen are fifteen minutes late for the second interview with Misha and Jeff at the other side of the hospital. Jared apologizes twice, but Misha and Jeff insist that they didn’t mind waiting. It seems sincere enough. Both men have come today a little more casual than the last time, each of them dressed in dark wash jeans and t-shirts. Jeff is wearing sandals and Jensen sees that his toenails are painted black and red.

Diana mentions to everyone that they can take their second interview off grounds.

“I am kind of hungry,” Jared admits, looking over at Jensen. “Are you?”

Jensen shrugs. He can wait, but he’ll eat something if Jared is eating. Carefully, he watches Misha and Jeff’s reactions, looking for any sense of annoyance or obligation. He detects none, especially when Misha starts talking about a Mexican restaurant in the area he and Jeff have been meaning to try. Jared agrees to have dinner with them—Jensen included.

Before they leave Diana for the evening, she reminds Jared, in her own way, that he’s not under any pressure or rush to make a decision. After Jensen helps him up, she pats his shoulder and congratulates him on the good news from Doctor Linda.

Softly, Jared thanks her.

Anyone would have a soft spot for those dimples.

The agency wants to see the adoptive parents and birth parents get along. One of their beliefs is that blended families work well together. Diana encourages them all to meet and talk as often as Jared feels comfortable. She also reminds him of his appointment in two days.

“Another doctor appointment?” Jensen asks as they wait for the valet to bring up the car. Jared is breathing heavily, one hand on his belly, and still refuses to sit in a wheelchair while they wait at the entrance.

“Sorta,” he pants and holds Jensen’s hand with his free one. “Therapist. Been seeing him for a while. I… I… Jen, I don’t feel so good.” Jared hunches over, not letting go of his belly or Jensen’s hand, breathing hard and moaning lowly.

Jensen's instinct is to get help immediately, but he realizes that Jared isn’t in a lot of pain. Doctor Linda warned him that part of the third trimester would be Jared’s body experiencing a lot of change; what might seem alarming is part of the process. Jared isn’t gasping for breath or bleeding, so Jensen places his hands on Jared’s belly. He rubs and lifts gently, momentarily easing the pressure off Jared’s back.

The car pulls up. Jensen looks at the valet and shakes his head; luckily, the valet understands.

“Breathe,” Jensen whispers into Jared’s ear. “In one, two, three, and out, three, two, one.”

Jared nods and follows Jensen’s voice. Tears squeeze out and Jensen bumps their foreheads together. After a minute, Jared places his hands over Jensen’s and they stand like that for a moment. There’s a small kick, which causes Jensen to gasp softly and Jared to groan.

“We’ll have a good dinner,” Jensen murmurs, kissing Jared’s cheek. “Then I’m gonna get you home, run you a bath, massage your feet, and put you to bed.”

As Jensen helps Jared into the car, then buckles him in, Jared cries.

“Why are you so good to me?” Jared sobs into a rogue handkerchief.

Jensen slides into the driver’s seat after tipping the valet. The place they’re meeting Misha and Jeff at is a high end, upscale Mexican place and he knows they won’t make tacos the way he and Jared are used to. He hopes the food is good anyway.

He reaches over and holds Jared’s hand as he drives.

“You deserve it, tall man.”

That’s as simple as he can put it.

 

Horchata is a sweet, rice milk drink.

Two large glasses of it wait for Jared and Jensen as they sit down at the table. This place boasts the best margaritas in all of California. Of course, that doesn't matter to them. Jared finishes his horchata in thirty seconds flat. Jensen scoots his over to him. His glass gets downed a little slower, but Jared drinks it all and sheepishly apologizes to everyone.

“Don’t be sorry,” Misha laughs and orders two more. “I’m jealous—I’m lactose intolerant.”

“Doesn’t stop you from eating ice cream and getting sick and whining about it,” Jeff grumbles with a sly smile from his menu. “You two haven’t seen him binge on a pint of mint chocolate chip.”

Misha counters with a potent glare. “Hey, you try living without cheese and dairy products then we’ll see how tough you are.” He looks back at Jared and Jensen. “Order anything you’d like guys, it’s on us.”

From the prices on the menu, Jensen had hoped very much it was on them. He loves tacos but doesn’t love them at twenty-five dollars for a plate of four.

“I’m so hungry,” Jared sniffs, sipping on his third horchata. Jensen tries a sip of this one. It’s okay, a little too sweet for him, and he knows he’ll end up drinking half and then surrendering the rest to Jared. “Can we get an appetizer? Nachos?”

“Anything you want to eat, order it and we will share in its deliciousness,” Misha happily responds.

This time Jensen speaks up. He nudges Jared. “Nothing spicy. That Thai food kept you up this morning.”

Jared makes a face. “It wasn’t the Thai food. I just… couldn’t sleep.”

“Uh huh." Any other response might get him smacked with the menu. He suggests two other appetizers that don’t have salsa on them and Jared orders both. Jeff orders two more horchatas—one for himself and another for Jared. Just as they all start murmuring about the weather, Jared starts bouncing in his seat.

“Jen!” he snips and shakes Jensen’s shoulder. “Bathroom!”

As quickly as possible, while Jared stammers out apologies to Misha and Jeff, Jensen helps him up from the chair and goes with Jared to the bathroom. There’s a small line, but Jared hollers right through it, screeching that if people don’t get out of his way he’s peeing all over them. Jared gets into the stall just in time, moaning as he pees, crying half way through. Jensen, who is waiting outside the stall, asks him what’s wrong, if he’s run out of toilet paper or what?

With a hiccup, as he finishes and exits the stall, Jared grumbles out that nothing’s wrong. He just feels like crying.

“My mood swings are awful today. All I wanna do is cry. What if they’re judging me for it? Oh god, Punzel, I have to pee again.”

Before he even gets to the sink to wash his hands, Jared is scooting right back into the stall. Jensen mumbles something about not caring about what they think but Jared doesn’t buy it.

From the stall, Jared responds, oblivious to all the other people in the bathroom. “I do care about what they think, Jen. I don’t want to, but I like them and… I’m gonna… oh fuck I’m gonna hurl.”

“Well you’ve got the toilet right there!” Jensen yips and stands away from the stall. “Jared?!”

The men’s room clears out at the sound of Jared throwing up and sobbing. In between heaves and cries, Jared manages to scream at Jensen that this is all _his_ fault. Panicking, Jensen tries to bust the stall door open but it stays firm. He peeks under and sees that Jared managed not to throw up on the floor. Jensen becomes a ninja and crawls underneath, cursing at twisting his spine in a way it’s not meant to twist. Thankfully, Jared chose the handicap stall, so there’s room for them to somewhat spread out. But just as Jensen starts holding Jared’s hair back and rubbing his belly, Jared gets a nosebleed.

“I hate this!” Jared shouts and shoves Jensen off. “Don’t touch me! Auuuugh!”

That’s a scream of frustration, Jensen can tell as he is knocked onto his ass, and not pain.

He’s about to get up and grab some paper towels and wet them, when there’s a knock on the stall door. It’s probably management informing them that this is a swanky place and what the fuck are they doing?

But it’s not.

It’s Misha, with cold paper towels in hand.

“Thank you,” Jensen breathes out and moves aside. Jared is still screaming for Jensen to get out, to leave him alone, to get the _fuck_ away from him.

“I’m going!” Jensen snaps harsher than he means to and Jared starts crying.

Misha smiles weakly at Jensen before stepping forward and cupping Jared’s nose in the wad of towels. “Go on,” he says over his shoulder. “Jeff’s at the table. I can handle it from here.”

“Jen’s mad at me,” Jared sobs until he starts throwing up again.

Before he leaves the bathroom, Jensen hears Misha’s calming, bright voice say, “He’s not mad at you, Jared. He’s just gonna go order your food. Does he know what you like?”

“Tacos with extra… extra cheese.” Jensen sticks around the doorway for a few seconds longer, lingering.

“That’s great. By the time we clean you up the food will be ready. C’mon, take a deep breath. There you go. We have to make sure we get back before the guys eat our food. I don’t know about you, but I murder people who touch my plate.” It helps that Misha says that last part in an over the top Russian accent.

When Jensen gets back to the table, exhausted and no longer hungry, there’s a shot glass of tequila waiting for him.

Jeff motions towards it when Jensen sits down. “Figured you might need something a little stronger while they’re gone. Kick it back.”

“I’m not twenty-one,” Jensen mutters but throws back the shot anyway, barely grimacing at the burn. It’s high quality tequila; not the shit the scene kids serve at parties. He hasn’t had a hard drink in a long time—since that cast member party—but the shot feels good.

The older man nods and frowns, watching Jensen. “I know. I meant to talk to you about that.”

God dammit.

He can tell this is going to be a heart-to-heart or a “we need to talk” kind of conversation, like the kinds Hannah has with him every now and then about how he needs to stop being so cold towards other people and let them in. He looks directly at Jeff and waits. Jeff smirks a little. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

There is no response Jensen can give that doesn’t make him seem like a sixteen year old brat, so he just shrugs. For some reason, older adults like to bring up his silence as being peculiar. Even his grandparents—whom he sees exactly once a never—have commented to Hannah that Jensen is a special young man who likes to keep to himself and isolate everyone around him. Jensen has gotten spoiled having Jared around; he does enough talking for the both of them and takes the pressure off of Jensen.

“I’ve just been wondering,” Jeff rumbles, knocking back his own shot, “what a young man such as yourself is doing with Jared. You’re not the biological father of his children, you haven’t even been dating for more than two months. Yet here you are, taking him to appointments and being involved in major decisions that will affect him and his children.”

“Can it be because I’m a decent human being?” Jensen grits out. He does not like this conversation.

Placing their empty shot glasses aside so the waitress can take them, Jeff shakes his head. “No, because in my experience that is, unfortunately, rarely the case. Why are you here, Jensen?”

“I don’t exactly appreciate these questions,” he replies, making his displeasure known clearly. “But I’ll answer because I don’t wanna fuck things up for Jared.” He takes in a deep breath and looks at the table, picking at the tablecloth. “I know what you’re insinuating—that I’m here for some other reason. Like I’m taking advantage of him or something. But… I’m… look, I don’t have a fancy scrapbook or even more than two pictures of us together. But he asked me out and I said yes. I… don’t know why I did because I knew… he’s not the kind of guy you can forget easy.” He sighs, frustrated, and glares at Jeff. “You’re totally scopin’ me out.”

With a smile, Jeff nods. “You got me.”

“Well quit it,” Jensen snaps. “Misha might be cleaning him up now but I’m the one who wakes up at four in the morning and gets the heat pad for him.”

“Indeed you are,” the older man replies with a nod. “Do I have to threaten you with bodily and psychological harm if you hurt Jared? Is that necessary here, son?”

Jensen can’t help but laugh. He sees Jared from across the room, looking wrecked. It’s going to be either a long night or a short one when they get home.

“Several people have already beat you to that, sorry,” he tells Jeff and stands up to help Jared sit down. Jared throws himself at Jensen and cries into his shoulder, apologizing and asking where his food is and if Jensen has eaten it yet.

When the four of them sit down, their evening starts out a little better than before.


	20. Chapter 20

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Jared is upset.

Jensen was upset, but right now, the thought of his face smashed into his pillow trumps everything else. On their way back from the restaurant, he mentioned something to Jared about Jeff’s questions. He felt like he should speak up about the situation and tried his best to mention it as casually as possible.

As soon as they got to Jensen's, they made a beeline for the bathroom. They said hi to Hannah on the way in, with promises to fill her in on the details after business. Fuming, Jared started a bath. He is now soaking in the tub, trying to relax. Jensen sits on the edge, holding an extra-large bath towel in hand. 

“Because you were having a good night,” Jensen murmurs, fiddling with the towel.

There’s this look from Jared that Jensen is very familiar with by now—the are you shitting me look. Jared then states a fact. “I expelled bodily waste from _three_ areas of my body today, pretty much all at the same time.”

“And I cut my hand while pruning today, so what,” Jensen grumbles back. “I didn’t say anything at first because I don’t want you making a big deal out of this. But then I… maybe it’s something you should know? But what does it matter?”

“It matters because it’s about you! You matter!” Jared says this with such force behind his words that he splashes around in the tub while he says it. “It’s none of their business who I choose to be with, all of their business is with me. There’s no fucking need to be asking you shit like that—especially when I’m not around! People don't get to talk to you like that, like you're some kind of... ugh! Jensen!”

He looks at Jared, eyes wide with concern. “What? What’s wrong?”

Hazel eyes look at him directly, piercing and authoritative. “Give me my phone.”

“Now? You’re seeing them tomorrow…”

“Yes, now! Don’t make me get up and get it.”

“Okay, okay. But I didn’t want you to make a big deal out of this, Jared.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Nothing! Nothing.”

When he comes back with the phone, he hands it to Jared and starts emptying out the tub a little, then replaces it with more hot water. Jared sighs as he scrolls through his contacts. He makes a sudden, surprised noise. Jensen looks up and sees Jared’s phone ringing.

It’s Misha.

“I was just going to call you,” Jared snips, placing the phone on speaker, holding it so it’s not in danger of falling into the tub.

“Oh, good, I was worried you might be asleep,” the older man replies, sounding different. Jensen can’t pinpoint his tone of voice. “Listen, I really need to talk to the both of you. Is Jensen around?”

Jared replies that of course Jensen is around and Jensen mutters a hello from his spot.

Misha sighs over the phone. “Uhm, okay. Jeff and I don’t have that many arguments. Like, ever. Even though he’s wrong most of the time, I can overlook things, let things go. But I’m really sorry about tonight. I… I believe that he’s coming from the right place but that was no way to do it."

After a deep breath, Misha continues. "Jensen, I can’t tell you how happy I am that Jared has someone like you. And I think Jeff forgets that when we first got together, his parents were suspicious of my intentions—Jeff always came from money and well, I didn’t. Uhm. So. It’s my endeavor in this world to be _unlike_ our parents.”

At that last portion, Jared snorts and moves around in the tub, one hand under his belly. He pushes his hair out of his face and speaks as soon as Misha is finished. “Look, y'all. I’m tired and cranky—I just want to be clear that if we are going to continue this, we’re going to do it right. Jensen is  important in this whole thing, and if anyone is going to question his place here we are going to have a serious problem. I don’t appreciate people talking about my boyfriend when I’m not around; or people talking about our relationship as if I’m not smart enough to choose someone loyal and faithful and genuine—everything Jensen is and has been from the start. And I appreciate you calling, Misha, but I'm interested in an apology from your partner.”

Jared’s tone is confident and self-assured. It makes Jensen smile a little with pride. Jared is two years younger, but he sounds more like an adult than Jensen has in a long time.

Two seconds later, Jeff gets on the line. Jared keeps the phone near him, taking in a deep breath before starting. “Are we going to have a problem, Jeff? Because now every time I’m not at the table or around to hear it I’m going to worry that you’re disrespecting Jensen and therefore disrespecting me.”

“No, Jared, we won’t have a problem.”

“We have both been nothing but honest with y’all, the least you can do is be honest with us. Is there some kind of problem here that I’m not seeing?”

“No,” Jeff replies softly, his voice a low rumble. “I’m sorry to both of you. I… I would prefer to apologize in person, if you don’t mind.”

Jared sits up in the tub and Jensen starts to drain it. “That’s good,” Jared says. “Is that okay with you, Jen?” Jensen nods and murmurs that it is. He doesn’t really care about an apology but he does care about the way the older men treat Jared. If they’re going to be talking about Jared’s decisions when Jared isn’t around then that is a problem. Jared pats his knee and finishes up the conversation with Misha back on the line. They want to change plans for tomorrow. Instead of the original lunch they had planned, Misha wants them to come over to their house in Santa Monica for dinner, which Jeff will make. Plans are made and Jared hangs up, handing the phone back over to Jensen, who sets it aside and helps Jared out of the tub. He wraps the large towel around Jared and gives him a smaller one to dry his hair with.

With the towel over his head, Jared sniffles and places it over Jensen’s head as well. They both lean into the little damp but warm tent. Jared kisses him. Jensen still can’t get over how good Jared smells; it’s enhanced by the steam in the bathroom.

“You called me your boyfriend,” Jensen whispers, kissing Jared back, then over and over again.

“Don’t make me do it again,” Jared quips with a soft sigh. He reaches up and tugs on a piece of Jensen’s hair. “I’m glad you told me, Punzel. I feel better now.”

“Because you kicked ass?” Jensen’s kisses trail up and down Jared’s jawline.

“Mmhmm, because I kicked ass. Uhn… you need to stop, before I think about your ass.”

“Who says you can’t?”

Jared snorts and takes the towel off both of them. He looks exhausted but there’s brightness in his eyes; his hair is sticking up all over, thick and fluffy. “Says your mom in the next room and the fact that…”

“You have to pee,” Jensen finishes for him. “Alright, you win this round.”

“I don’t have to pee. I’m going to throw up,” Jared sniffs and waves Jensen away. “Now go, let me regurgitate my dinner in peace.” 


	21. Chapter 21

A week later, Jensen finds himself standing in the tiny kitchen of Jared’s place, staring at the fridge. It’s four in the morning again. Ten minutes ago, he was woken up to have this conversation:

“Jen. I can’t sleep.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Okay, okay. I’m up.”

“Can I have cookies and milk?”

“Wha?”

“Can you warm the cookies up in the microwave though? Just a little? Don’t burn them, Punzel.”

“Micro…wave?”

“Don’t forget the powdered milk too, please.”

“Uh?”

The babies seem to be from an alternate universe where the day starts before the sun is up, especially when Jensen works an early shift.

Scratching his head, Jensen yawns and opens the fridge, supposing that being the one to get the cookies and milk isn’t so bad in comparison to actually carrying the babies. Still, with his mind still fuzzy, he forgets what he was grabbing. He has work in four hours.

Today, Jared conveniently has the day off; his hours have been cut. The mice have been chattering about their relationship, but Jensen has managed to squash most of the talk. He can’t help what people say when they’re not there, but the slightest mention of Jared that could be interpreted as negative gets Jensen growling.

He has to be at the Happiest Place on Earth in four hours. Four. Hours.

In the week since Jeff cooked them dinner, Jared and Jensen have been moving around California, bouncing back and forth between Anaheim and Santa Monica. Every other day Jensen has driven Jared out there, where he likes it because the babies don't move around as much near a body of water. So far, the four of them have shared a sunset on the beach twice. Misha and Jeff live two minutes away from a stretch of beach.

The guys own a large house with a huge backyard on a quiet street filled with families and older people.

Jared cries every time they leave; Jensen asked about it the last time they left Santa Monica.

“I’m going to cry a lot,” Jared replied in the car. “And it’s not because anything is necessarily _wrong_ , Punzel. But this is really hard. I didn’t… you don’t think it’s gonna be so hard when you’re one month in. They weren’t moving or kicking or… did you know that they’re breathing now? It’s different.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Jensen had emphasized. “I… we…”

“No. Don’t. Because you make it so tempting, Jen. You really do. But I have to think clearly about this. It wouldn’t be fair to you or me or to them.” He had one hand on his belly like always. “They’re the most important part of this. I… you are wonderful. Saving you is one of the best parts of my life. But neither of us makes enough or… shit… has our own home. I’m gonna cry a lot because this is what I have to do. I’m okay. If I need to talk about it, I will. Just… be okay with me crying for a while, please?”

The more Jensen thought about it, the more Jared made sense. Although Jensen hated to see Jared cry, he had no right to ask him to stop or calm down.

All he could do—and all he did—was hand him a handkerchief and kiss him after.

One good development has been the drop in nausea Jared has been experiencing. However, now the issue is that he can’t sleep most nights, leaving him exhausted during the day. If it's not one thing, it's the other.

Gradually, Jensen wakes up and manages to heat up the last of the gourmet snickerdoodles without burning them. Forty seconds in a microwave is way too long for cookies, as he found out. He mixes together a large glass of whole and powdered milk. As he is about to take the plate and glass to the living room, Jared calls out for maybe some pickles and peanut butter and cheddar cheese and do they have any ice cream left? The most efficient way to carry everything becomes a tray. As Jared snacks, sitting up on the couch, he lists off things he misses eating.

“Sushi, coffee, medium rare steak…” he sighs and drinks half the milk in one go, burping and wiping his mouth. “Ugh, chocolate…”

“How can you think about food when you’re eating?” Jensen murmurs from his sleeping bag.

“Shh, don’t talk, your voice annoys me right now,” Jared says with a smirk. “Go to sleep.”

Thinking that it’s better to do as he’s told, Jensen crawls back into his once warm sleeping bag and burrows into it. Half an hour later, when it’s almost six, Jared wakes him up again.

“Do you have to pee?” Jensen grumbles, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He’s given up on sleep. He will just have to hurt someone at work—slowly and painfully.

“No,” Jared whispers, sounding off. “Uh… they’re not done playing on my ribs.”

“Lotion?” He’s crawling out of his sleeping bag at this point, ready to grab it from its place near the television. He looks over and Jared looks uncomfortable.

“No… I…” Jared whispers. “Jen, can I ride you?”

Although Jared's voice is hushed, the sound of it affects Jensen. His cock twitches in interest, traitorous against his weary mind. Before he knows what is what, he is lifting up, looking at the shape of Jared’s mouth and the rosiness of his face visible from the tendrils of dawn slipping in through the blinds. Jensen hears himself ask if it’s okay. Jared responds that of course it is, he just doesn’t want to make Jensen do anything he doesn’t want to do.

Jensen lays on top of his sleeping bag.

Tristan is in the apartment, in his room. Jensen can’t help feel a little smug, about to annoy him for once with sex noises. Hefting himself down with a grunt, Jared manages to slip off the sofa. Careful and cautious, Jensen watches Jared's every movement, groaning when Jared kneels between his legs. His cock so close to Jared’s mouth is terrible--wonderful.

This time, Jared doesn’t ask for poetry. Jensen's mind couldn't handle thinking that much right now, as he’s being blown at six in the morning. He reaches down and presses his fingers against Jared’s cheeks, feeling the weight of him there, then brushing back a piece of Jared’s hair, tucking it behind his ear. Jared moans around his cock and picks up the pace.

“Holy fuck,” Jensen hisses out, trying to keep his hips still. “Jared!”

There are blow jobs and then there are _blow jobs_. Jared seems intent on the latter, opening his mouth and forcing himself down on Jensen’s cock, making loud slurping, choking noises. His noses bumps the base of Jensen’s cock and he holds his mouth there, taking Jensen deep. He opens and closes the muscles in this throat, until he the pressure is too much. He pulls off with a wet gasp. Jensen is about to tell him that this is hot but not to push himself, Jared starts all over again.

Sealing his mouth over the head, Jared applies the sweetest amount of pressure and friction with his lips. He suckles the tender tip before popping off, adding spit, and going down once more. Jared takes him in all the way, and Jensen feels the tip of his cock push at the back of Jared’s throat.

Hard, swollen, and flushed, Jensen lifts his hips, arching into humid, velvety softness.

Jared swallows him five times in a row, with only a few seconds of rest in between. Jensen warns him, gripping onto Jared’s hair and holding on for dear life.

“Ring?” Jared snaps, his voice wrecked.

“I didn’t pack it,” Jensen breathes out, like he’s been punched in the gut. “Why?”

“Fuck my mouth, Jen." Jared’s voice remains low and fragmented. “Do it rough.”

The second Jared wraps his hand around the base of Jensen's cock, he obeys this command. Jared holds the base in a way to delay his orgasm. This forces the tingling pressure in the small of Jensen's back to build.

Desperate, Jensen lets go of his inhibitions, his worries about hurting Jared. He thrusts up and into Jared’s mouth, pushing himself as far back as he’ll go. Stuffed and jaw working open wider, Jared moans and blinks away tears from the pressure. Jensen slides out but Jared takes him right back in, closing his eyes and letting out a deep, muffled keen.

It’s then that Jensen realizes Jared is coming, his mouth and throat relax for a moment before tensing up. Jared's teeth scrape down lightly, adding just the right amount of pain and pleasure. Jensen holds him still by the jaw, pushing his cock along the thick, wet stripe of Jared’s tongue. Jared pops off when he’s done coming, panting and coughing, his face streaked with tears.

Jared reaches underneath himself and shudders, stroking himself, his breath hitching at the sensitivity. He can do multiples. Lucky. Jensen sighs, shifting his hips, the pressure off his cock for now, but it gives a twitch when he sees it against his stomach, flushed red and glistening with spit. Arching forward, Jared grinds their cocks together, placing Jensen’s hands on either side of his belly, breathing hard with the force of their movements. Jensen doesn’t have any time to shuck his boxers off.

“Lube... where’s the stuff?” Jensen whines. “Jay?”

“Here, oh god, here.”

From under one of the couch cushions, Jared procures one condom and a packet of lube. Jared preps himself and Jensen just like the last time, only now he’s much faster. He grips Jensen’s cock, lifting himself up, and with his free hand, holds onto the couch.

“Uhn, fuck yes,” Jared moans, lowering his hips, forcing Jensen’s cock through the resistance, tossing his head back. When he’s fully seated, he uses the couch and the coffee table to steady himself.

Jensen moves his hands from Jared’s thighs to his ass, spreading Jared open and feeling himself there, buried and held tight. Jared is tighter and feels hotter than before. They’re both sweating when Jensen starts thrusting up, but Jared still smells sweet.

“I… coming…” Jared blurts out, his eyes squeezed shut. He leans back and pushing his hips out. The view is exquisite. Jared stays still, the inner walls of him spasming as he comes. Hiccupping slightly from the force of it, Jared lets out a moan.

It’s a miracle that Jensen doesn’t come; he forces himself to hold out, gritting his teeth and biting down on his right hand to keep from shouting.

Thick ropes of come spot his middle, his chest, and Jared’s belly. Jared starts moving again, leaning down, his belly in between them. Jensen curls up to meet him, half sitting now. They kiss, their tongues heavy with the taste of Jensen.

Separating just an inch, Jensen takes in every sensation and the overwhelming view. He thrusts up hard and deep, his balls slapping from the motion. Jared’s belly bounces as he drives himself down towards Jensen. They work together and against each other, their mouths fused. Jared wraps his lips around Jensen’s tongue and sucks it, bobbing his head slightly, reminiscent of the blow job that came before this.

“On me,” Jared pants after the pop of letting go of Jensen’s tongue. “Please, Jen, please, please come on me. Please?”

Their movements have lost rhythm; Jared is spasming again, tight and sucking Jensen in. Pulling out is the last thing Jensen wants to do but he can’t deny this request.

“Uh huh,” Jensen groans, his balls drawing up. “Fuck, hurry, gonna…”

In an instant, Jared pushes off, both of them groaning at the feeling of Jensen slipping out. The condom is carefully peeled off. Bare, their cocks grind together. Jensen reaches up and looks at Jared, who is blissed out, tongue peeking from his pouty mouth. They manage to sneak in a kiss before Jensen feels Jared coming again. The wave of it causes Jared's shoulders to shake. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck." Despite his attempt at being quiet, Jensen ends up shouting anyway.

Jared takes over and wraps one warm, soft hand around his cock and jerks Jensen off, smacking the head of Jensen’s cock over his belly. Jared bites down on his bottom lip, rubs his stomach with his free hand, and whines with pleasure as Jensen comes. Spurts of come stripe the wide, heavy expanse of Jared's middle, marking it and marking Jared.

Jensen’s eyes roll back. Guttural noises escape the back of his throat. The hand on his cock works out every drop he has to give.

For a long time, he lays there, dead to the entire world around him.

Except for when he hears pounding on the wall from the bedroom.

“I broke you,” Jared laughs softly, sitting proud on Jensen’s lap. “Help me back onto the couch?”

It takes him a while, but Jensen manages to get up. He lifts Jared back onto the couch, and clears the tray away. He tosses everything into the kitchen sink and stumbles back to his sleeping bag, where he crashes face down, his cock sensitive but alert. Every part of him hurts and aches and feels so good.

“Punzel,” Jared breathes out, his voice full of sleep. “Can we do that again?”

“Now?” Jensen coughs from his sleeping bag.

“Uh huh.”

“You got another condom? And like… an hour? Cause I can’t again. I’m only human, dude.”

“I’m hard again.”

“Good for you,” Jensen snorts. Jared had three orgasms in the time it took for Jensen to have one. Jerk.

A foot nudges Jensen’s side. “Please?”

“If this is how you’re trying to kill me…” Jensen sighs and hefts himself up and out of his sleeping bag once again.

The sun rises.

Before Jared can speak again, Jensen kneels in between Jared's legs, arms hooked under. He pulls Jared into a different, closer angle. Simultaneously sleepy and turned on, Jensen receives a second wind. His cock twitches weakly, interested but spent. He didn’t have that much sex before he met Jared; this is going to take some getting used to, though, as he takes Jared into his mouth, Jensen supposes he can adjust.

“I wish I could see you,” Jared pants, reaching out for one of Jensen’s hands. “Jen, this feels so good. So fucking good. Oh… oh! Yes!” With his left and Jared’s right, they hold hands. With his right, Jensen pushes two fingers into Jared, his hole sloppy with lube and still loose from fucking. He sucks Jared off slowly, paying attention to the head more than anything, and works two fingers in, groaning at the feel of Jared taking him in and clenching around him.

Jared makes a noise and Jensen pops off, leans up to look at him.

“This is nice,” Jared says quietly, tears in his eyes, “you’re so nice to me.”

Whoever caused the reason for Jared to say that, Jensen vows to hurt—in this life or the next.

He doesn’t have fancy words to say; all of his poetry is lost.

But he knows he makes the right move when he leans forward, kisses Jared’s belly, and then kisses him.

Then he gets back to making Jared feel good for the sole reason of feeling good. Nothing is expected in return or asked for afterwards. There are no giant arguments or resentment when Jensen wakes up two hours later, late for work, and rushes out the door barely dressed and coherent.

 

With his face pressed on the steering wheel, when he’s parked in the employee lot and taking up three spaces, he starts crying and craving a hot dog at the same time.

Shit.


	22. Chapter 22

The feeling starts the minute Jensen pulls into work and gets out of his car.

It persists the entire morning, despite three bottles of water—was he always this thirsty?—and the constant clearing of his throat. It nags at him four hours later, even while he’s finally eating the hot dog he has been craving. It tugs at him when he’s ordering another hot dog with extra relish, even though he’s not really hungry, he just inexplicably wants another.

It stays with him until he’s clocking out and pushing past crowds and snapping at cast members along the way and when he stops at Gibson’s.

It’s definitely there when he hears one of the girls behind the counter talking about him. She doesn't bother to look around and check to see if he's around, when he’s right there, in line waiting for a sundae.

“You know that grouchy guy from Storybook? The one who hooked up with Jared? I mean, who does that? Who hooks up with someone that big? You know Millie did have her eye on him—you know Millie, she works at Goofy’s—but he didn’t give her the time of day. Stuck up, she said. Gay, I said.”

Jensen can’t believe people find him so interesting that they need to talk about him during work, in front of guests. He’s too tired and angry to deal with this shit. But he wants his sundae. God dammit.

“You’re gonna comp the biggest sundae you have,” he announces when he reaches the counter. Both girls freeze and stammer and look around. “Don’t do that," he snaps. "Own it. That’s okay, I know you’re both horrible people who hate to see anyone else around you happy.”

He leans in closer so guests don’t hear the next part in particular. “If I hear that you’re talking shit about Jared again, I will personally send you a boat full of elderly miniatures enthusiasts who will make your lives a living hell for the rest of your time here.”

Standing up, he relaxes his body language. “But no hard feelings _gals_ ,” he says with a swish of his wrist. “I’ll take a chocolate chip cookie hot fudge sundae with extra cookies and cherries. Ah, and a voucher for Jared. Oh, please no salty tears in my ice cream. Thank you.”

“You think you can…” the one who was doing the talking blurts out, dumbfounded.

“Oh no, I know I can. I could report you. I could file a claim of harassment or hell, just a violation since you were talking about me in front of guests. But I won’t because I don’t care that much. Just get me my free ice cream, shut your mouths about my business and my boyfriend, and we’ll be peachy. Don’t be stingy on the hot fudge.”

Both women shut up and fork over his well-deserved sundae and voucher.

Cackling as he walks through the employee lot, Jensen briefly wonders if he can finish the sundae on his own.

Fifteen minutes later, eating while perched on the hood of his car, he rubs his stomach. Turns out that he can but he probably shouldn’t.

Later on, leaving work, the feeling comes back full-force when he’s driving.

It’s there when he gets home and checks his phone; no messages from Jared.

It’s there when he gets into the shower and runs the water extra hot.

Damn the tickle in his throat.

 

By six in the evening, when he should be at Jared’s to pick him up for another drive to Santa Monica, Jensen is curled up in his bed, dead to the world.

Two boxes of Kleenex are on either side of him, his trashcan is already full, and there’s a bottle of cold medicine on the nightstand he’s been drinking out of periodically. Hannah hasn’t gotten home yet, but it’s not like Jensen would have noticed.

He hears some noise, but his fuzzy, DayQuil addled mind says that sleep is much better than consciousness, so he ignores it.

The noise becomes louder and before Jensen has any time to snap out of his fuzz, the door to his room slams open.

“Answer your fucking phone!” Jared yells and stomps forward, making the cough medicine on the nightstand rattle precariously. “I’ve been calling you for HOURS!”

Jensen flinches and flails in bed, rolling over and sneezing out something that looks like it belongs in a horror movie.

“That’s so gross!” Jared gasps and shoves a box of tissues into the hand that isn’t covered in blech.

Blearily, Jensen sniffs and looks at Jared, his eyes barely open.

All six foot something of Jared, seven months pregnant and pissed, are standing there, belly heaving from breathing so hard. “I thought you were dead, Jensen! I got some weird text from my old supervisor at Gibson’s and then you didn’t fucking answer for hours!”

Jensen just mumbles something that he thinks might be an apology but he’s not sure.

“Oh my god, you’re sick!” Jared snaps, putting two and two together. “Punzel! Are you okay?”

A cool hand presses to Jensen’s forehead. He leans into it and breathes out of his mouth since his nose is stuffed but somehow still manages to leak snot. He feels hot and cold at the same time.

“You’ve got a fever, Jen! Why are you naked? You need to cover up.” Jared leaves his side to rummage through Jensen’s drawers. “Ugh, why do you keep your pajamas in the bottom drawer? Fuck.” Jensen blurrily watches Jared try to squat down, only to groan in frustration and open the drawer with his foot, then kick out a pair of sweats and an undershirt. With effort, Jared bends down and picks them up off the floor, panting when he stands up again, tossing them over to Jensen.

“I’m gonna call Misha and tell him not tonight,” Jared announces. He picks up the cold medicine from Jensen’s nightstand. “Is this what you’re taking? This will only put you to sleep, it won’t actually help you, Punzel. I bet this is all you’ve taken. Okay…” Jared looks around the room. “I’ll get you more tissues, some actual medicine, some Vicks, and chapstick.”

He walks up to Jensen again, who is slowly crawling into his pajamas. Without missing a beat, Jared helps him pull the undershirt over his head and starts smoothing out the bed. “I’m gonna walk to the corner store so I’ll be back soon. God help me, Jensen Ackles, if you get up out of this bed I will kill you myself, do you understand?”

Sneezing, Jensen nods. He mumbles something about not getting Jared sick, but Jared waves his concerns away. “I’m hopped up on so many vitamins, Jen, I’m sure I’ll be okay. I’m not kissing you until you’re not leaking snot but I can at least do this. Go to sleep for now.” Before he leaves, Jared gathers up Jensen’s uniform and tosses it into the laundry hamper.

“How you get here?” Jensen asks, blowing his nose and crashing into his pillows again. He’s grateful for the pajamas now; he was freezing.

Standing in the doorway, Jared shakes his head. Dimples frame a gentle smile.

“How do you think, Punzel? I took the 57 to the 46 and walked. Now stop talking and rest. I’ll bring soup, too.”

The door shuts and Jensen hears the front door to the house open and shut before he drifts off.

It feels good to sleep knowing that Jared will be back.


	23. Chapter 23

For two days, Jensen is confined to his room, convinced that he will never see the outside world again.

Every few hours, Jared plops down on the edge of Jensen's bed. He rubs Vicks over Jensen's chest and under his nose. This system works for a while, but inevitably wears off. He’s so stuffed up that his lips are chapped, which makes the Chapstick come in handy, but it’s all incredibly frustrating.

Jensen spends most of his time sleeping, but the sleep he manages to get is bothered by the ache in his chest and the pressure in his head. Jared piles four thick blankets on top of him and he’s still cold.

On the third night, Jared gives him a dose of whatever he and Hannah have decided to pump him with. He also wipes Jensen's mouth, cleans the snot dripping from his nose with a fresh tissue, applies a fresh coat of Chapstick, and turns off the light.

“’Ank yew,” Jensen mumbles into his pillow.

His entire body hurts. Earlier today he refused to eat soup, but now he’s regretting it. Maybe having an appetite means the fever is going away.

Jared shushes him and settles into his post for the night.

Hannah set him up with an armchair and ottoman from the living room. It doesn’t look very comfortable, especially since Jared is bigger than ever, but he snaps at Jensen every time he tries to suggest that Jared doesn’t have to take care of his sick, snotty, sorry ass.

On the fourth day, Jensen’s fever rises. He can feel it grip onto him, causing his vision to become blurry. It makes him colder than ever, with a steely ache in every bone and a pounding in his head that never ceases. While he slips in and out of fitful sleep, Jared is there, wringing a cold compress in his hands and wiping the sweat off of Jensen’s face. Three days of not shaving have made the scruff on his face itchy and annoying; Jensen is uncomfortable in every way.

When he starts coughing and groaning from the resulting pain in his chest, Jared leaves the room.

Confused, Jensen looks around, trying to focus his vision. The light in his room turns on and he starts coughing again; this time it feels like his lungs are on fire and trying to squeeze from the inside out.

He can only hear snippets of the voices around him.

“Get now.”

“I’ll there.”

“No. Better call?”

“Yes okay.”

There’s a hand on his head but he doesn’t know if it’s Jared’s or Hannah’s.

Either way, he finds comfort in it and reaches out towards it.

 

The next time Jensen opens his eyes, he finds himself in a hospital bed.

Jerking awake, he gasps, immediately starting to cough.

This time the rattle in his chest is much less painful, but it still causes something in his chest to constrict. Grimacing and lying back in the narrow bed, he thumps his chest with a closed fist. Slowly, he takes in the machines and things hooked up to him—an IV that looks bruised and painful where it was stuck into his left arm, an oxygen line, a blood pressure cuff on his right upper arm, sticky things on his chest, and a finger clip monitor on his right hand. Things are beeping and whirring all around him and he’s dizzy trying to think about how the hell he got here.

Who the fuck brought him to the most hated place on Earth?

“Good, you’re coughing,” an older male doctor announces. He walks in the moment Jensen is attempting to remove his own lung. “Ah, ah" he chides, "don’t swallow the mucus. Spit it out. Here, you can use this.” A tiny plastic bowl is handed to him. Jensen glares. He has dignity.

He spits as elegantly and manly as possible.

“You’re going to be _that_ kind of patient,” the doctor sighs. Adjusting his glasses, he reminds Jensen of Doc from Snow White. “Well, Mr. Ackles. I’m Doctor Jones, I took you in last night when your stepmother and partner brought you in. I was hoping you might be home by now, but you seem especially sensitive to the first round of antibiotics we tried and you went into shock. Brought you back though!”

He says that cheerfully as he’s writing in Jensen’s chart, recording numbers from a machine.

“We’ve flagged your chart for the allergy and switched the antibiotics. You’ve got a bacterial case of acute bronchitis. A few more rounds of albuterol treatment in the next few days—and I’m sending you home with a rescue inhaler just in case—should set you right.” He flips a switch and Jensen’s cuff starts to squeeze. “But you have to cough and get that mucus out. Try to make a game of it. The bigger they are, the more you’re getting out.”

“That’s gross,” Jensen mutters and starts coughing. “Where’s Jared? And my mom?”

The doctor frowns, which worries Jensen. “Well, your mother—a lovely lady by the way—is outside getting coffee. I sent your partner home. The ER is no place for people carrying miracles.”

What is it with doctors always referring to the babies as miracles?

Jensen sniffs, able to breathe out of his nose for the first time in forever. He sighs and looks around the room; it’s tiny but clean. Finishing up his notes, Doctor Jones asks Jensen to sit up; he takes out his stethoscope and listens to Jensen’s lungs from his chest to his back. Breathing in hurts and causes him to cough a few more times—he spits out stuff not because he wants to, but out of disgusting necessity.

“You sound much better. Amazing how young people bounce back from the crash cart.”

“Crash cart?”

“Mmhmm,” Doctor Jones says with a nod, scribbling on the chart. He flips through a few pages. “You arrived shortly before eleven last night, with a high fever—that’s broken now, you’re welcome—and painful coughing. By one you were admitted, checked out, and by three you were given a round of antibiotics that are standard in bacterial bronchitis. Unfortunately, sir, you are severely allergic to that medication. Your stepmother said you have had those antibiotics before, so it seems that you’ve developed the allergy recently. Anyway,” he checks Jensen’s oxygen line, “your throat started to close up and you seized on the bed—gave one of the nurses a nasty scratch and blew your IV. Your blood pressure nosedived and your heart rate skyrocketed. That’s what happens in anaphylactic shock.”

Images of him going through all of that exhaust him.

Doctor Jones continues. “Luckily, we were able to inject you with epinephrine—adrenaline—before the crash cart became necessary. That wins you a round of steroids when you leave here as well.”

“Did I die?” Jensen asks softly.

For the first time, Doctor Jones looks completely serious. “No, you did not. But you were close. Few minutes longer without attention and your throat would have closed up completely. I would perhaps take the time to thank your partner. He’s the one who noticed your allergic reaction and pressed the call button.” Doctor Jones is back to smiling. “Congratulations on the miracles, by the way. We adopted ours. Carolyn and Dawn are wonderful.”

“Your kids?”

“Nope, their birth parents. George and Tom are our kids. We’re a blended family; sounds like you are on that track yourself. It’s a great experience. Plenty of love to go around for everyone. Lots of work though.” He pats Jensen’s shoulder. “You’ll be groggy and sore for a week while you recover. I’m going to speak with the cardiologist who has been monitoring your heart—shock is an awful strain on it—but a glance at your chart looks like you’ve been doing well. Don’t be surprised if you do nothing but sleep for the next few days. I gave your partner notes for work and instructions, but I’ll give your mom an updated copy. Any questions? Concerns?”

Stumbling on his words, Jensen breathes out with a slight wheeze. “No…uh… no.”

Standing by the doorway, Doctor Jones nods, the clipboard under his arm, a hand on the doorknob. “Great, I’ll get the nurses working on discharge papers barring any irregularities from the cardiologist.” He pauses, like he’s got to think what he says next through. “Oh, and Mr. Ackles, from what I hear you’re doing a fine job so far. Don’t think of it as giving up—think of it as adding help. Best of luck to all five of you.”

It’s a few minutes before Hannah runs in, still wearing her pajamas at five in the afternoon.

Jensen is still reeling from everything.

An hour later, Hannah dresses him like he’s five years old again, and a nurse helps him into a wheelchair. Wheeled out, covered in blankets, Jensen blinks away at sunlight. While Hannah runs to pull the car around, the nurse waits with him.

She looks a lot like Sue. Before Hannah pulls up, she pats Jensen’s shoulder.

“You are very loved,” she says with a smile.

“Thank you,” he replies quietly. “I am.” 


	24. Chapter 24

On the ride home, Hannah breaks down.

She pulls over and cries like he’s only seen her do once before.

Through the rush of tears, she tells him that she’s never been so afraid; never felt so useless. Watching him struggle to breathe was one of the most horrifying things she’s ever had to see. She had gone out of the room to speak with the ER team that took him in when the allergic reaction had started to set in. The only person in the room with him had been Jared.

Echoing Doctor Jones, she cries out that Jared was the one who never once took his eyes off Jensen; he's the one who noticed Jensen fighting to breathe in his sleep. He was the one who saw the hives start to break out on Jensen’s arms and heard him choke. Not only did Jared press the call button on Jensen’s bed, but he threw the door open and shouted for help.

Hannah seems so small.

She’s always been a petite woman; Jensen was taller than her when he was twelve. But this side to his usually calm and collected parent unsettles Jensen. She was the one at PTA meetings, at doctor’s visits, and baseball games.

To him, she has always been seven feet tall.

“It’s not your fault…” he starts to say, then adds, “mom.”

Shoulders trembling, she cries harder and shakes her head.

“I thought… maybe… you were both… you both needed something for _now_. Maybe you were both trying to fill something with each other. But… I’m so ashamed of thinking that after this. I’m sorry.” She looks at him, her eyes rimmed with red. “I’m sorry I ever doubted either of you. That boy loves you, Jensen.”

The weight of what she says doesn’t hit him or strike him as odd. Instead, it lands on his chest comfortably, like it should be there. It slots into place.

“I know,” he murmurs. “I… mom, I love him too.”

 

Because he’s still coughing so much, Jared can’t sleep with him. Luckily, Jared hasn’t caught what Jensen has; in fact, besides looking like he hasn’t slept in a million years, Jared still has that glow around him.

There’s tears and tight hugs and familiar hands running through Jensen’s hair.

He’s given a warm bath and dressed in one of Jared’s maternity shirts. Jensen can’t stop smelling it.

In the time that Jared has been at the house, he’s cleaned Jensen’s room, aired it out and replaced the sheets. It no longer smells like sickness and his sheets, when he crawls in, are still a little warm. Blankets are piled on and tucked in around him. The window is left open the tiniest bit, to keep air circulating. Jared sits on the edge of the bed and pushes up Jensen’s shirt, then applies Vicks on his chest. Jensen sighs and coughs and sighs again. He wants to kiss Jared but he also doesn’t want to risk it. Jared seems to understand.

“Sleep,” Jared whispers, tucking Jensen back in. “I’ll wake you up later for dinner.”

After he’s done coughing, Jensen asks how the babies are. Jared grabs Jensen’s hand and places it on the widest part of his belly, then presses down a little. “Wait for it,” Jared says with a small smile. “Three, two…” There’s a kick and Jared winces. “They’re fine. They want you to get better.”

For a minute, they look at each other, their hands still on Jared’s belly.

It’s tough to have a moment when he can’t stop coughing, but Jensen tries. Jared leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Don’t do that to me again, Punzel,” he says, his voice watery, their hands holding tighter. “I can’t save you if you do that.”

“You did anyway,” Jensen rumbles, sleep setting in. After a second, he tosses in a request. “Stay with me for a little?”

Jared smile and nods. He takes his hand off of Jensen’s and lets Jensen rub wide circles, sighing at the feeling. Jensen hopes they both get to sleep better tonight. He musters together the energy he has left and says what he’s been meaning to ever since he figured it out in the car with Hannah. It’s not that long but it’s not that short either. His voice is soft and he knows it sounds broken, but he hopes Jared can hear it.

“My love gives me some wax, so for once instead of words I work at something real; I knead until I see emerge a person, a protagonist; but I must overwork my wax, it loses it’s resiliency, comes apart in crumbs.”

Jensen pauses to cough; the rattle in his chest is still there. He picks up right away.

“I take another block; this work, I think, will be a self; I can feel it forming, brow and brain; perhaps it will be me, and perhaps if I can create myself, I’ll be able to amend myself; my wax, though, freezes this time, fissures, splits.” Jared’s eyes are closed but Jensen knows he’s taking it all in. “Words or wax, no end to our self-shaping, our forlorn awareness at the end of which is only more awareness. Was ever truth so malleable? Arid, inadhesive bits of matter.”

Here, Jensen does what he hasn’t done ever before. He changes the last few lines.

He does it for Jared.

Their hands are back together by Jensen’s doing. He runs his thumb over Jared’s fingers.

Maybe it’s not the most romantic poem. Maybe it’s not even the most emotional poem. It’s certainly not a well-known poem; he could have quoted Shakespeare or dug out the Neruda he knows. But it’s a poem that he’s been saving since he first read it—sipping a cup of coffee inside Cream Pan, lost and upset with the world and most of all, with himself.

It may not be the greatest literary masterpiece, but he chooses it anyway.

Just like Jared chose him.

 

There’s a softness in his voice that surprises him as he says the last lines.

“What might heal me? Love. What might make me whole? Love. Your love.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "lost wax" by ck williams. <3


	25. Chapter 25

Three days later, Jensen has a lingering cough but he’s well enough to walk around the house once again.

In the living room on Wednesday, Jared calls him in. Hannah is in the dining room, with a bunch of papers around her. She smiles at them; she looks like she knows something. Jensen pads in, wearing pajamas, trying to get as much rest as possible before returning to work the next day. He’s all too happy at no longer being a stuffed up, mucus expelling mess. And tonight is the first night Jared can sleep with him again.

“Go get your guitar,” Jared commands simply, settling onto the sofa with a small oomph sound.

“You’re not gonna bash it, are you?” he asks, flinching a little at the request.

“Go get it and see,” is said to him with a smirk.

As Jensen heads to his room and pulls out his guitar from his closet, he knows this can’t be good. He doesn’t like singing in front of other people anymore. Mostly, he just doesn’t like the sound of his own voice. He would much rather strum and not have to sing, which is why whenever he played recently it was with earplugs in. It took the pressure off of hearing his own voice. Sometimes he’ll play covers of his favorites, or play to poems he rattles off. Sometimes he’ll write a few things and sing them outside in the backyard, when Hannah isn’t home, and play a song no one will hear.

Dusting it off, he tunes it quickly as he walks back to the living room, where Jared is waiting.

“Let me try?” Jared asks, holding his hands out. Jensen hands it over without hesitation. He knows that Jared won’t really smash it. He watches as Jared tries to hold it properly; several positions later, Jared does not manage to hold it in a way that he can play it with both hands. With a huff, he hands it back to Jensen. “It’s not because I’m bigger than a small vehicle,” Jared sniffs. “My hands hurt.”

Jensen laughs and gives a strum. “Then don’t hurt your hands.”

Jared gives him a look. “Can you play something if I hum it?”

“I can try,” he replies with a small shrug.

From the dining room, Hannah watches them try to work out a tune. Jared hums it three times before Jensen has got it to his satisfaction. Finally, strumming idly, Jensen asks, “You gonna tell me why I’m playing? Should I be charging?”

“If you’re charging me, I hope you take Monopoly money. Start over,” Jared says with a small sigh. He’s tired; he had work yesterday and still hasn’t completely rested. Hannah took him there but he had to take a bus back, which he said was no big deal, but he’s not breathing as easy as he did a month before. Even his constant trips to the bathroom are starting to make him short of breath. He’s gained a little more weight but they’ll find out how much tomorrow at his next check-up. He takes a deep breath—as deep as he can, anyway—and Jensen plays the start of the song.

The melody is a standard country one, easy enough to play. It’s cheerful in a way that country songs are cheerful, with a tinge of bittersweet. Jensen smacks the end of the guitar for extra sound, where the drums might be in a recording. The windows are open and for once, their street is completely quiet. It’s nearing sundown and the day is cooling off.

Jared closes his eyes. He doesn’t have a professional’s trained voice and he knows it. But that doesn’t stop him. And it doesn’t stop Jensen from thinking it’s the finest thing he’s ever heard.

It takes two lines for them to match up.

“Way back on the radio dial a fire got lit inside a bright eyed child. Every note just wrapped around his soul from steel guitar to Memphis all the way to rock and roll. Oh, oh, I can hear them playin’, I can hear the ringing of a beat up ol’ guitar. Oh, oh, I can hear them saying, ‘Keep on dreaming even if it breaks your heart.’”

By this time, they’re in sync and Jared has opened his eyes.

Jensen’s fingers are no longer rusty and he finds himself rocking back and forth to the music they’re making in the living room, unable to take his eyes off Jared. There might be a break here but they skip right past it.

“Some dreams stay with you forever,” Jared sings clearly, his voice dipping lower, a smile on his face, dimples appearing, “drag you around and lead you back to where you were. Some dreams keep on getting better. Gotta keep believing if you wanna know for sure.”

Growing more confident with every line, Jared’s voice is a little louder, picking up, and his smile becomes a grin that matches Jensen’s. “Oh, oh, I can hear them playin’, I can hear the ringing of a beat up ol’ guitar. Oh, oh, I can hear ‘em saying, ‘Keep on dreaming even if it breaks your heart.’ Keep on dreaming even if it breaks your heart. Keep on dreaming, keep on dreaming, don’t let ‘em break your heart. Oh, oh…”

They finish together, because Jensen doesn’t mind the sound of his voice if it’s with Jared’s. “Oh, oh, keep on dreamin’ even if it breaks your heart.”

He strums the finish, happy and playful.

 

They’re kissing while Hannah is clapping in the background.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "even if you break your heart" by will hoge.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a bad day at Storybook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so much fun with this chapter. XD
> 
> i'm wiped out from work today, y'all. seriously hurting. ;-; 
> 
> /waves surrender flag/
> 
> edit: yes I know cast members wouldn't swear or do things like this on park premises. there's also mpreg here. Suspend reality a little more. ;)

 It’s a terrible, no good, horrible bad day.

Jerry gets a promotion to manage a sizeable portion of Fantasyland, which unfortunately includes Storybook, Dumbo, Casey Jr., and the Mad Tea Party. Two of the scene kids quit the next day, which is the Thursday that Jensen returns to work after his illness.

He figures out why Jared came home so tired the day before. Jerry had him doing things that take Jensen a long time to do and Jensen sure as hell isn’t seven months pregnant with triplets. Trying not to cause any trouble, Jared did as much as he could—this is what Jensen wrangles out of Rhonda, who couldn’t help because Jerry had her on tours all day—but there were several times he disappeared from set without any explanation. The mice say that Jerry is trying to write him up for it, but at the moment he’s more caught up with one of the ladies from Casey Jr. sneaking in vodka and selling it to underage cast members, specifically a few at Mad Hatter and Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.  

“They just wanted a wild ride,” Jared quips as they stand in eighty degree weather in their awful uniforms.

“She was bound to get caught,” Rhonda sighs. “She made about eight hundred solid cash in two weeks. Even some of the ladies in the Village Haus were stashing bottles for her.” That is the current crisis in Fantasyland, but the mice report more serious talk in Mickey’s Toontown, where suits and FBI agents have been seen all this week. It figures that the week Jensen is gone so much juicy stuff happens. He doesn’t engage in gossip or rumors—before Jared, he kept to himself at Storybook, with the exception of Rhonda, who has a very Jared-like quality about her—but he does like to keep informed.

“You are pruning too much!” Mr. Yamamoto snaps at Jensen. “I have told you time and time again, Mr. Ackles, pay attention to the structure!”

“I am paying attention to the structure!” Jensen hisses in reply. He motions to the tiny redwood he has been working on for the past half an hour. Their voices aren’t high enough for guests to hear but Jensen knows he’s on edge; the heat and all this work shit has him all turned around. “I had to remove an entire branch here because it’s rotting—I was being careful!”

Like the Big Bad Wolf in the Pig Island section, Jerry appears. He asks Mr. Yamamoto if there is something wrong—if Jensen is doing something wrong he would like to point out and have him document. Jensen is two seconds away from punching the daylights out of Jerry, job or not.

From his sunglasses, Mr. Yamamoto looks at Jensen, then at Jared, and then at Jerry. He stands to his full five foot six and gets into Jerry’s face. “No! There is nothing wrong and I would have you stop your interruptions! I cannot apprentice talent with you interfering constantly!” Everyone is stunned by this; if Mr. Yamamoto complimented the sky for looking blue it would be a revelation. For him not to take the opportunity to say that yes, Jensen was being careless, well… Jensen has never owed him any favors, so he doesn’t understand what is going on.

It seems like Jerry doesn’t exactly understand either. He’s a tall man, an inch taller than Jared, with slick blond hair and sharp black eyes and nose that’s too small for his face. He scrunches his nose in displeasure and stammers that he won’t interrupt Mr. Yamamoto but he certainly doesn’t need Jared so Jared can get to polishing the gold statue of Peter and finish with cleaning the stained glass window in the Alice section. Jared can barely sit and stand by himself anymore; getting down on the ground and doing those tasks are nearly impossible.

Just as Jensen is about to call Jerry out on his bullshit, Mr. Yamamoto starts shouting that Jerry needs to leave _his_ work alone and that he can manage _his_ team just fine.

The mice have a lot to chatter about that afternoon.

Mr. Yamamoto, before he leaves for the day at three, takes Jensen aside.

Unusually talkative today, the older man speaks to Jensen in a low voice so others don’t hear their conversation. “I am not telling you this because I have the same mindset as some. I am telling you this because I am concerned. I do not believe that it is right for that young man—whoever he is to you is not any of my business—to continue working. My hands will never work the same way because of the work I have done here. But that is me. Only me.” He places his pair of gloves into Jensen’s hands. “And that is how it has always been. Only me. Do not let that happen to you.”

“I…” Jensen tries to give the man his gloves back and he waves them off.

“Take them,” he mutters. “Today is my last day. I apologize for chiding you earlier. I did not see the rot and removing the branch was the correct option. Still,” he sighs. “You are much too quick to cut. Young hands work too fast.”

Lost for words seems to be a thing with Jensen lately. He stands there, holding soft gardening gloves, and watches Mr. Yamamoto step and walk away.

“You will take care of the concern I have,” the older man states simply. It’s not a question; it’s a fact.

Jensen nods.

He looks over at Jared, who is pretending to sweep up what Rhonda is mowing but secretly making sure Jensen is alright. Jared sneaks a wave at Jensen, smiling even though he has to be miserable by now after six hours of this shit storm.

Fuck.

 

An hour later, at the end of their shift, both of them are limping.

It’s ridiculously warm for this time of year and even Jensen is feeling it. They have two vouchers for Gibson’s but Jared just wants to get home and cry and take a shower and cry more and, “Maybe throw up. That actually sounds really good right now. Lunch was ick.”

Jensen was craving hot dogs again at lunch so he made Jared partake in them. This time he had three while Jared only finished two. It’s a point of pride. They have Doctor Linda in two hours.

While they’re leaving Storybook, two scene kids come up to them. At first Jensen thinks they’re going to offer them pot or vodka, but it turns out to be a threat. They try to sound tough—California teenagers, c’mon, he wants to tell them to quit while they’re ahead—and say that they represent Maisy from Gibson’s. The whole line goes along the lines of: if you ever threaten Maisy again, we’ll be there. He has some choice words and retorts, more Godfather style at this point, but Jared beats him to it.

Usually, Jared is slouching. That’s due to the weight he’s carrying and his natural shyness about his height. Jensen’s broader chested and shouldered than he is also, but when Jared stands to his full height, feet apart, one hand on his belly and the other in a clenched fist, everyone—Jensen included—backs off.

“God help you, because I am going to punch you so fucking hard I will break your noses and your mothers will feel it,” Jared growls, stepping forward. “If you ever think about threatening us again, I will pound you into the ground—pregnant or not—and you can fucking guarantee that, you pathetic pus-filled maggots. What!” Jared barks and they flinch. “Did I not make myself clear as fucking day?! Get the fuck out of my face before I change my mind and you’re eating Kleenex for a month!”

Running away in their skinny jeans, the pair disappears.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Jared snaps with a snort and starts walking. “I’m tired and I want tacos, god dammit! Let’s go!”

There is no way in hell that Jensen is arguing.

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a bad day, Jared invites Jensen into his shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sex chapter! really just porn. 
> 
> super quick update. i will come back to edit this later. 
> 
> transferred to a different store this week so i'm all over the place. i have the weekend off so expect lots of updates then. <3 for now, forgive my scarcity. but enjoy the porn? 
> 
> the poem here is "love sonnet XI" by Pablo Neruda. one of my favorites.

In the end, they don’t get tacos. They go right to Jensen’s and Jared invites him into the shower.

It’s a source of luck that the shower and tub are roomy enough for the two of them, though there are a few times, as they actually shower, that Jensen bumps into Jared and vice versa. There’s soap on Jared’s belly as they lean over and kiss, soft and wet and warm. Jared’s kisses are hungry, with a bite, insistent and heated. He snorts in frustration when he can’t get close enough to Jensen under the water. Both of them have to awkwardly jut out to kiss each other. When Jared reaches near the end of his patience with himself, Jensen breaks their kissing and hopes that Hannah doesn’t get home early from work today.

The actual shower is necessary; they’ve both spent the entire day working way too hard for a job that pays way too little in weather that is unnaturally warm. Cool water felt refreshing and soothing. All the stress from the day slipped down the drain as they gradually got closer and unwound. Now, Jensen reaches behind Jared and turns the water to be a little warmer. He hears Jared sigh.

“I can’t see you,” Jared murmurs, tensing up but relaxing as the water temperature changes and Jensen’s hand wraps around his cock. “I wanna see you.”

From the water, Jared’s hair is messy and flopping everywhere. Jensen’s hair is messed up also, but that’s more of an after effect from Jared running his hands through it. He leans forward on his knees a little and licks a long stripe up Jared’s cock, which is already hard. Enjoying the tremble that Jared gives in response, Jensen smirks from his place. “Close your eyes and see me then.”

“Oh,” is gasped and Jensen peeks up to see Jared’s eyes closed. There’s something satisfying about seeing Jared biting his lower lip in anticipation. Since Jared is under the shower head and Jensen is more or less under him, he’s not worried about the water. He is worried about sounding stupid, but he figures the worst that can happen is Jared laughing at him and even that wouldn’t be so bad. Some might call it absurd to be quoting Neruda in a bathtub while also blowing your very pregnant boyfriend, but Jensen doesn’t exactly give a damn.

He suckles on the head first, wrapping his lips firmly around the crown and applying pressure on the tender underside. Jared places his right hand on the side of his belly and Jensen slips his left over it, lacing their fingers together. “Oh shit,” Jared moans, supporting himself against the tile wall with his left arm. When Jensen lets off for a moment to relax his throat, he watches Jared’s cock slap against the underside of his belly. Jared makes a soft noise and his cock twitches. Jensen wraps his hand around the base of it. Every part of Jared is responsive to him in the best of ways; he notes the way Jared's breathing changes, his voice changes to something deeper and seductive.

“I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.”

He teases, trailing his tongue against the crown and licking over the slit.

“Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.”

What Jensen tastes—as his hand slips off and his mouth slides on and around Jared’s flushed, heavy cock—is sweet and crisp. Breathing through his nose, he tightens his hold over Jared’s hand and starts bobbing his head. Jared immediately groans and pushes his hips forward, belly heaving from panting, making gasping noises in the back of his throat. He mewls and whimpers and goes silent when the tip of his cock bumps the back of Jensen’s throat. Jensen holds him there until he can’t breathe and pops off with a loud smack.

His voice is rougher now, but he gets through the next line, his tongue in the soft crease between Jared’s balls, rubbing and massaging gently. “I hunger for your sleek laugh, your hands the color of savage harvest, hunger for the pale... uhn… stones of your fingernails…” he lets his lips graze languidly against all the sensitive skin there and presses firm kisses. He trails back up and sucks Jared all the way down, opening his mouth wider, forcing himself so that he’s making the same choking sounds Jared did before. It has the same effect on Jared as it does on Jensen; Jared’s knees tremble and his cock swells. Again, he holds Jared as deep as he can, opening and closing the muscles in his throat as best he can. This results in him drooling a little, but it makes it messier, slicker, and before Jensen knows it, Jared is fucking his mouth hard and fast. Jensen takes it. He closes his eyes and focuses on breathing and keeping his teeth out of the way. The sound of it electrifies him. It’s unlike any other fumbling blow job he’s given. He was in control then; it’s easy and alluring to give all control to Jared.

The sounds Jared is making in combination with the sound of his cock stuffing Jensen’s mouth and throat are desperate and throaty. He pulls himself all the way out and whines. Jensen grabs his cock and smacks the head of it against his bottom lip. That’s exactly what Jared wanted and he knows it. After a few seconds, Jared makes another noise and Jensen lets go, opens his mouth, and allows Jared to shove back in. His own cock is bobbing between his legs and his knees are starting to ache—the water is starting to get a little cold—but all he feels is Jared all around him.

“Oh, oh, _oh_ ,” Jared huffs out and Jensen knows he’s tossing his head back. Pushing his hips forward and hips swiveling slightly, Jared starts to come. Jensen isn’t the best at swallowing, so he pulls off a little. He gets about half of it in his mouth and the other half laces all over his lips and chin. “Jen,” Jared cries out and goes tense. “Please! I… again… oh please, please, please…”

He goes to put his mouth around Jared but a hand tells him to back off. Slowly, he gets up, joints popping. The first thing he does is turn the water off. Jared is soaking wet but the tears are obvious. Jensen wants to ask but Jared’s eyes tell him not to; instead, he licks them away while Jared whimpers.

“Bend me over,” he whispers to Jensen, hands on Jensen’s neck. “Please, Jen, need you.”

“Gotta get…”

“Medicine cabinet.”

“I didn’t…”

“I did.”

True enough, there’s a stash of condoms and lube in the medicine cabinet when Jensen gets out to see. He takes a condom and sits on the sink counter as Jared rolls it on, kissing his neck and chest. Jared touches Jensen with the same care as he always does.

“Keep talking, please,” he breathes into the shell of Jensen’s ear. “Jen, please.”

He can’t help but shudder; he grabs Jared and kisses him firmly, opening up their mouths and swallowing the moan Jared gives. The next few movements of his are somewhat rough, but Jared welcomes them, encouraging him, begging for Jensen’s cock, gripping onto the counter as he’s bent over. Long, lean legs spread wide and Jensen slots in between them. He presses the thick head of his cock at Jared’s lube-slick hole and presses in slowly. He hisses and watches Jared sink down on it, pushing back, ass clenching and relaxing with every inch. At the same time Jared moves back, Jensen thrusts forward. Together, they press Jensen’s head against the soft, silky spot that causes Jared to go liquid.

When Jensen adjusts to the heat and pressure around him, he places his hands around Jared’s hips and starts moving. “I want to eat your skin like a whole almond. I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, the sovereign nose of your arrogant face. I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes.” With every line his voice gets lower and his movements become less rhythmic. He leans forward and shifts his hands to hold Jared’s belly, his hands spread wide over the large swell of it. Jared cries out and begs to be fucked harder, tilting his ass up, meeting Jensen’s thrusts with his own firm pushes back.

Like the sonnet he’s growling out, Jensen isn’t going to last long. There’s something about fucking Jared from behind that drives him to a chaotic desperation. Is it bad that he finds this hot? That the sex between them as Jared’s heavy and round is scorching and leaves him craving it?

“Oh god, oh god, harder Jen, please… fuck me harder… yes… hah… yes, yes, yes!” He feels Jared wind up again and he knows they’re going to come close together this time. He’s pounding into Jared as hard as he dares, merciless against Jared’s prostate. Jared comes hard whenever Jensen’s sucking him off but he comes twice as hard when Jensen’s fucking him. Over and over, he drives in deep and firm, his balls slapping loudly against Jared. The mirror is fogged up with steam and their heavy breathing. Jensen tightens his hold on Jared’s belly and Jared loses it.

“Coming!” Jared shouts and tosses his head back. “Coming, coming, coming, yes…” Jensen lets him come untouched and nearly comes himself, the pressure around his cock growing in intensity. He relishes the feel of Jared clamping down around him, the walls of him twitching and undulating.

When Jared finishes, Jensen pulls out, careful but quick.

Jared turns around and hefts himself onto the countertop. They embrace and Jared pulls him in by his hair for a crushing kiss. Jensen pants into Jared’s mouth and lets out a whine.

“Come on me,” Jared whispers, his eyes dark and his mouth red. “Jen, come on me.”

He nods in response and starts stroking his cock, holding it over Jared’s belly. Jared pants and leans back a little, pushing his hips forward as he’s sitting.

“And I pace around hungry,” Jensen grits out, his eyes flitting back and forth from Jared’s belly to his mouth. “Sniffing the twilight, hunting for…for you… uhn… for your… your hot heart.” He stripes his hand up and down faster, twisting his wrist at the head. He hears Jared start to come again, weaker this time but still there. The first few ropes of come Jensen spurts out mixes together with a few beads of water left from their shower. Groaning, Jared grabs Jensen’s cock, taking over, and presses the head against the widest part of his belly. Jensen punches out the last line as his toes curl.

“Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue…fuck! Jared!”

Pushed over and coming in long, thick stripes, come drapes over Jared’s belly. Jensen wobbles but Jared holds onto him.

“Oh fuck,” Jensen groans and his eyes flutter. He has a second orgasm. It’s not like Jared’s multiples but it feels good. It’s a satisfying end. He hasn’t had an orgasm since the week before, so Jared’s belly is covered in more come than usual. He tries to apologize, feels himself start to blush, but Jared interrupts him.

“I… Jen, that’s… the hottest thing… I… I can’t tell you,” he stammers out, sounding fucked out and sleepy. “Am I weird? I can’t help it. That’s all I wanna see. After you fuck me I just… oh god… just thinking about it and I get so hard.” Jensen’s eyes flicker down to Jared’s cock, which is attempting to get hard again. Jensen has enough sense to grab a nearby towel and clean Jared up. He tosses it aside and grabs a new one, then wraps Jared in it. A kiss is pressed to Jared’s forehead.

“It’s not weird. Not weirder than me muttering Neruda.” There’s relief that Jared finds sex between them as hot as he does.

There’s half an hour before they need to leave for the hospital.

As he helps Jared to bed so he can take a quick nap, Jensen presses tiny kisses on Jared’s cheek and jaw. He situates Jared on his side and covers him up, then goes back to the bathroom to clean up.

 

When he’s putting away some of the condoms he knocked over in his hurry, he hears the front door to the house open and Hannah’s voice call out.

“Are you done yet? Can I come in and pee? Please?!” 


	28. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhonda notices more than a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i challenged myself to do a three minute drabble before work and a small Punzel scene was the result. :D
> 
> it was fun to write about the boys in Punzel verse from an outsider pov!

Rhonda knows things are different the very first day, when she sees Jensen walk with Jared towards Gibson’s. Jensen has worked there just a little longer than she has and she’s never once seen him leave with any coworkers. 

After that, anyone who dares ask Jared to do anything that requires heavy lifting or bending has to get through Jensen first; everyone quickly learns the new order of things. Jensen is never mean but he is often blunt and clear about what he wants or expects. There are a few times that Jared has to remind Jensen that he doesn’t need a bodyguard; Rhonda thinks it’s sweet. She sees them arrive and leave in Jensen’s car and after a few weeks, she sees them kiss and embrace in his car also. They think no one’s looking and they’re so sweet with each other. Rhonda sighs happily and continues on her way when she glances at them for a moment one day.

Half an hour after the girls from Gibson’s send their muscle men to threaten Jared and Jensen, Rhonda stops over at the parlor. She orders a sundae and talks up the manager there. They’re old friends from art school. 

The mice are talking. Lori, the manager, liked Jared when he worked there and by proxy likes Jensen. But she hears the mice stirring up nasty rumors. She politely asks Rhonda if she knows if Jensen is the father. Rhonda feels bad about talking about Jensen when he’s not around but she admits what she honestly knows: “I don’t know.” 

Lori nods and sighs. Jerry wants Jensen gone. He’s not going to get the apprentice position—it’s going to go to one of the art students who has been there longer. That’s fair, but Rhonda is a little disappointed.

"He wants Jensen gone," Lori confides. "Don’t stick too close to him or you’ll be gone too."

Rhonda nods and finishes her sundae. She thanks Lori and Lori tells her that the girls have been taken care of. The mice told her what happened.

Rhonda walks back to her car slowly, trying to think of how to put this all together.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit at Doctor Linda's proves that Jared has lost weight and his blood pressure is high; there are some solutions but none are easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wheeeee updates for you! 
> 
> fun chapter to write, even though i rewrote it five different times. y'all are lucky. one of my rewrites went waaaay super angsty. i stayed with the happy route. <3
> 
> enjoy!

For the entire ride to the hospital, Jared slurps happily on a cherry popsicle. He’s still on a high from their bathroom escapades, a nap that the babies let him sleep through, and, well, he’s got a cherry popsicle. He doesn’t seem to notice the awkwardness or tension in the car as Jensen drives the three of them to the hospital. Apparently, Hannah asked Jared if she could accompany them this time. The head’s up would have been nice but Jensen isn’t going to ruin Jared’s good mood for anything.

They are a few minutes late and this time there are two other couples in the waiting room. Jensen checks in for Jared, while he and Hannah take a seat, and the nurse looks relieved to speak with Jensen. She tells him that Doctor Linda is running a few minutes late anyway, so if he could just have Jared fill out this form that would be great. Considering how they showed up last time, this is a much calmer visit. Jensen writes down Jared’s answers—it’s a questionnaire about how Jared’s feeling, his cravings, etc.—and Hannah gets him a paper cup of water. Jared’s lips are stained red from the popsicle, which is very distracting. Of course Jared notices this and smirks at him.

“Stop,” Jared snickers. “Pay attention.”

Grumbling, Jensen goes back to the form. He can fill out a lot of it by himself. He knows that every morning without fail, Jared is up at around three or four because the babies are awake and rolling around. As for cravings, lately Jared has been strangely craving spinach, which is good for everyone, but he wants it on everything. Jensen had to figure out how to make a spinach sandwich the other day.

When he’s halfway through the forms, a nurse calls Jared in. On either side of Jared, Hannah and Jensen help him up and follow after. They’re in the same room as before and this time the instruments and machines are a little more familiar. The nurse instructs Jared to change into a paper gown now for the start of the appointment. Today’s appointment is much like the one two weeks ago—ultrasound, blood work, and pelvic exam.  Jensen steps forward to help Jared with the gown, but Hannah gets there first. Jared makes a small joke about her seeing him naked and she replies with a snip about how the walls in the bathroom are not soundproof.

“Please,” Hannah mutters with a sigh, picking up the gown, “like it’s some mystery what you two are up to.”

Jared takes off his shirt and Hannah helps him with his pants and briefs. “You’re mistaken,” Jared says, leaning on the exam table and shimmying out of the rest of his clothes. “I was having really loud sex with someone else. Jen’s innocent.”

“Can we stop?” Jensen groans and sits down. “Do we have to talk about this?”

“How do you think I feel?” Hannah snorts and folds Jared’s clothes. “Look, I couldn’t keep my hands off my ex-husband when I was pregnant with Darren. We had some of the kinkiest, wildest sex ever…”

“Really?!” Jensen cries out and hangs his head, hands in his hair.

Both Hannah and Jared look too amused for Jensen’s comfort. Hannah continues, “And I’m not saying don’t do it because I know how good it feels. It probably does wonders for your back.” There’s a nod from Jared, along with a, “Helps them sleep better, too.” Hannah agrees.

She ties the gown on Jared and assists with him climbing onto the exam table. “Right, so I get it. I’ve been there twice. Well, three times if you consider how much I baby that one.” She motions towards Jensen. “But please just remember that I live there too and it’s a little awkward walking in on it when I’m coming home from work. It’s alright Jensen, adult time talk is over. You can quit whining and whimpering over there.”

Traitorously, Jared laughs from the table. He’s sitting up, feet dangling over the edge. “I’m sorry Hannah. We got carried away today. I’ll try not to bang your hot stepson when you’re in the house.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” Hannah says with a smile. The world is against Jensen. It’s probably conspiring with the Disney corporation. All he needs is Mickey Mouse to walk through that door and announce that he’s the new CEO.

Luckily, the next person who walks through the door to their room is Doctor Linda. Once again, Jensen has the urge to throw himself at her and hide. She sees him, then Jared and Hannah, and shares a conspiring laugh. “Well, what a fun group! My apologies for being late, everyone.” She walks over to the sink. “I had an emergency at the hospital earlier today and it’s thrown off the rest of my day.” Doctor Linda does look tired, but she’s in the same cream colored heels and pearls that she was in the other day. This time, her hair is up in a neat bun, with some curls loose. She holds out her hand and shakes Hannah’s. “Hello there, I don’t think I’ve met you before.” As she washes her hands, Hannah stammers that she’s Jensen’s stepmother. Jared chimes in that he invited her along. The two women look at each other for a moment—Jensen’s sure that it’s longer than a second—and fall into step.

While Doctor Linda is flipping through Jared’s questionnaire, they trade brief introductions. Doctor Linda, turns out, has been practicing for about twenty-five years, up and down the California coast. She has a specialty in multiple births, and that’s the last she gets to say before turning to Jared and flipping a switch under the exam table.

It turns out that Jared has lost weight. Doctor Linda is not happy.

In addition to the weight loss, Jared’s blood pressure is higher than the last time, which puts it outside of the normal range. She does a quick glucose test to see where his blood sugar is, and thankfully it’s not too high. Jotting this down, she informs Jared that he has two options: continue this way and be put on hospital bed rest or quit his job.

“I haven’t… made up my mind about Misha or Jeff…” Jared breathes out, lifting his hips up for Doctor Linda to put a pillow underneath his back so they can do the ultrasound. “Until then I need to pay rent.”

Jensen wants to jump in and say that he’ll pay Jared’s rent if it means he gets to stop going to work.

“I understand,” Doctor Linda says, her tone friendly again. She hands the tube of lotion to Jared this time. “No one is rushing you to make any decision, especially one like that. However, you have four more weeks to go until you can safely deliver. Why come this far to jeopardize all four of you now?” She flips on the ultrasound machine and together, they look at each baby. “Heart beats are strong, just where I want them,” Doctor Linda murmurs. “If your babies were born now they’d have a 95% chance of survival. But just because of that doesn’t mean you should be putting more stress on them. You still need to gain weight, take it easy, and start preparing for the birth. The last four weeks will go by the fastest.”

With the wand, she shows Jared that two out of three babies are breech still. If he wants them moved naturally, putting stress on his body won’t do it.

“There’s a group I help run. Hold the wand still so I can snap a photo. There we go. There’s a group I help run that meets in a discussion room here. Most of the folks in that group have been in it since their first trimester, but I don’t see why you couldn’t join us. Maybe it will help you to speak to others.”

“That won’t pay my rent,” Jared mutters and covers his face with his hands. “I’m sorry… I just…”

Printed out, the pictures are passed over to Jensen.

“Looks like you’ve got a boyfriend who might help you come up with a solution. Is that right, Jensen?” Doctor Linda asks, glancing his way.

Looking up, Jensen nods. He looks back down at the photograph. They’re less blob-like now. He can see their heads and tiny, curled up hands. They all look so small. Doctor Linda announces that the baby in the middle is the largest at two pounds fifteen ounces, their brothers or sisters are still at a healthy two pounds thirteen ounces. These are all excellent weights for triplets.

“Look,” Jensen whispers and hands the pictures to Hannah, who coos over them and tells Jared that they have his nose.

Jared starts crying and everyone wants to rush to him, Jensen especially. Hannah gets there first though, and hands the pictures to Jared. She holds his hand and points out little differences in each baby as Doctor Linda does the rest of the exam. Jensen looks on as his stepmother brushes Jared’s hair back, holding his hand tightly whenever Doctor Linda warns that something might feel odd.

“I’m scared,” Jared sniffs, looking at the pictures on his belly. “What if I can’t do it?”

Hannah smiles. “You’ll do it,” is all she says, simple and confident.

The exam is finished with blood work, which is easier. Hannah helps Jared get dressed again and she embraces him tightly at the end. Doctor Linda announces that everything looks good so far and if Jared follows her instructions, he’ll make it to thirty-two weeks, possibly longer.

She asks Jensen to step out of the room for a moment.

He leaves, of course, but he wonders what they all talk about. He can hear Jared crying harder after a minute and he’s tempted to ignore the request and step back inside. After ten minutes he’s a nervous wreck. Nurses and patients walking down the hallway look at him oddly but steer clear of him. He texts Rhonda and asks her to switch shifts with him for the next day. After five more minutes, just as he gets a confirmation from Rhonda saying she cleared it with a manager, the door finally swings open.

Jared walks out first and Doctor Linda hugs him. She pats his back and tells him that if anything changes, he should call her and come in. Their appointments will now be once a week instead of every other. She turns to Jensen and shakes his hand; he thanks her and takes the business card she hands him.

“Go on and wait for me in the waiting room,” Hannah says to him and Jared. “I’ll be right there.”

Jensen holds his hand out for Jared, who takes it with a squeeze. Before they slip back into the waiting room, Jensen turns and glances at Hannah and Doctor Linda. Both women are smiling and not much is being said, but Jensen sees Doctor Linda write something down on the back of her business card.

In the waiting room, Jensen gets Jared a paper cup of water again, and two more after he finishes those. They have to stop at the store and pick up more powdered milk, spinach, and a few items Doctor Linda suggested to help Jared gain weight a little faster. Jared needs to set up a meeting with Misha and Jeff for dinner—they haven’t been to Santa Monica all week but they’ve been texting—and phone registration for the parent group tomorrow night. Jensen will also have to go to the pharmacy and get more prenatal vitamins, lotion, and a new heat pad. Doctor Linda is going to give them a special pillow for Jared but she’s also advised buying an abdominal support strap to help Jared’s back.

There’s a lot to do.

“You’ll… uhm…” Jared starts to say, his voice hushed. They’re still holding hands but Jared’s feels clammy, like he’s nervous. “You’ll also need to get my stuff from Tristan’s. Please. I… I will leave climbing stairs to you right now, if you don’t mind, Punzel.”

Hannah asked Jared to move in with them. Jared’s going to quit tomorrow.

There’s so much to do and still so much that’s uncertain but at the moment, Jensen is grateful he said yes to streetcar sundaes.

“I don’t mind,” he answers back.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen tries to keep up with Jared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the poem here is "wishbone" by siken. a link to the full poem is here: http://www.colorado.edu/journals/standards/V7N1/MMM/siken.html
> 
> fast update, bed time now. <3

At six thirty in the morning, Jared is in the kitchen baking bread and dancing along to a song on his phone. Barefoot, dressed in his boxers and nothing else, his hands are covered in flour while he kneads dough on the countertop. There’s a tray of biscuit looking things already done, sitting on the stovetop. The biscuits have Mickey Mouse ears.

“You gonna stand there or you gonna eat?” Jared asks, glancing over his shoulder, uninterrupted from his work. “Eggs and bacon are in the microwave; just grab that and a piece of bread. Oh, coffee’s done too.”

“Wha?”

Jensen isn’t completely awake yet. He stumbled over to the kitchen after rolling out of bed to see where Jared was and what he was doing. His eyes aren’t even all the way open when Jared stuffs a biscuit into his mouth. “Oh fuck,” Jared huffs, one floury hand on Jensen’s face. “Get away from me. That’s… obscene.”

“Ah wah juf eaddin’,” Jensen replies through a mouthful of soft, chewy bread. It reminds him of the fresh bread at the local market that Hannah sometimes gets. He licks his lips and searches for butter in the fridge. When he finds it and leans against the counter to fix the rest of his biscuit with it, Jared is staring at him. Well, not really at him, but at his boxers.

“I want to make you late for work,” Jared blurts out, blushing as he resumes kneading. “Please, get out of the kitchen, Punzel. It’s not fair.”

“You just said I could eat…”

“Out!”

Banished, Jensen takes the last bit of his biscuit and sulks in his room. He got up extra early today to go for a run, which he usually does when Jared doesn’t spend the night. The urge to crawl back into bed until the last possible second is strong but he resists. Today’s a busy day and he could use the time to unwind. He throws on an undershirt and his favorite dark blue track pants, then socks and shoes. Before he leaves his room, he is sure to grab his phone and ear buds.

From the doorway he announces that he’ll be back in fifteen.

From the kitchen, Jared snaps that he doesn’t need permission— _go_.

Sighing, Jensen walks out of the house. Hannah’s already gone. Depending on her schedule—working as a secretary and a substitute middle school teacher on the side—she might be back by the time Jensen’s off his shift. Technically Jared’s also scheduled today; Jensen wonders how he plans to quit. Shrugging off all his previous thoughts, he steps over to the sidewalk. He has three routes, one for each of his moods. Putting in his ear buds he chooses the mental prep route, which goes through the park and has less distraction in terms of scenery. He can make it to the park, run through it, and be back in twenty minutes, which is pressing for time but he doesn’t care.

By the end of his block, he is annoyed with his choice in music. He tries no music but that frustrates him even more. Finally, halfway to the park, turning right onto Loara Street, passing Chateua Avenue, he switches to an audio book. He finished the Everything guide earlier in the week when he was sick in bed, so he’s halfway through _When You’re Expecting Twins, Triplets, or Quads_. The lady narrating sounds a little too cheerful for his taste but the book is pretty good. He listens to the chapter on weight gain and nutrition while he runs past a group of elementary kids going to school. The book addresses a few issues about nutrition but Jared doesn’t seem to be having an issue there. He’s good at avoiding caffeine, mercury, and alcohol. The junk food he eats is usually balanced out with healthier meals throughout the day. The book adds that if junk food is all Jared can keep down or even wants to eat, as long as he’s not relying on it consistently, then that’s what he should eat. Passing palm trees and park benches, Jensen picks up his pace, his heart rate picking up just as the narrator is talking about newborn weight. For triplets, the babies are big. The longer Jared can carry them, the healthier they’ll be. There’s even a small possibility they won’t need to be on oxygen or admitted to the NICU for too long after birth. There is enough time left, Jensen thinks, for the babies to be able to reach good birth weights.

Rounding the edge of the park, Jensen steadies his breathing, sweating now. He has to work at balancing his heartbeat; the narrator is talking about how without proper weight gain or nutrition, the babies could be born requiring incubation, respirators, and faltering heartbeats. She adds that typically, triplet parents carry to 32 weeks—and that’s the best goal to aim for—and ninety-two percent of parents deliver before 37 weeks. It all depends on the parent’s background and health history, plus their age. Jared’s age is a big factor; being so young puts him at higher risk of complications. The lady does mention that this is all individual and parents of triplets over the age of forty have healthier babies but it may be due to earlier and more accessible prenatal care.

Back at Loara Street, by the intersection of Brande, Jensen has completed a full run of the park. He’s running at a decent pace, surprised that he’s not panting for his inhaler or coughing up a lung.

On the run back, Jensen skips past a few chapters. He ends up on a chapter about childbirth classes. By the time he’s back at the house, the chapter has spoken positively about taking those classes. One of the parents interviewed says that the focusing and relaxing strategies helped but the pain was something else entirely different. As he unlaces his shoes, muscles tingling from his run, Jensen wonders what that pain feels like.

Is it like someone stabbing you? Is it like someone twisting around your insides? What is all the screaming and crying out for epidurals about on the documentaries and movies he’s watched?

Padding over to the kitchen, his breakfast is set out on the dining room table, coffee and everything. He has fifteen minutes to eat, shower, and get dressed. He doesn’t remember where he left his uniform from the day before, so he’s about to ask Jared, when he’s yanked into the kitchen.

“I can’t,” Jared cries, pressing their mouths together. “Jen, you’re… you’re gonna be late. I can’t wait. Please, please, please, please!”

Startled, Jensen blurts out that he needs to shower. Jared presses his nose into the dip of Jensen’s collarbone and breathes in. “No, oh god, just like this. You smell so good. Fuck.” Hazel eyes are insistent and pleading.

“I’m all gross, just let me…”

Firm, grabby hands are all over his body, squeezing and groping his ass, shoving his track pants and briefs down. “I can’t wait, Jen. I… if you don’t… oh god, I’m so sorry.” Jared feels that Jensen isn’t hard and he retracts his hand quickly. Tears fall even faster than that and before he knows it, he’s stumbling after Jared, his pants and briefs around his ankles.

“It’s not automatic, Jared!” Jensen gripes out, tripping and nearly landing flat on his face. “You gotta let me catch up god dammit.”

“Don’t swear!”

“But you…”

“I said don’t swear! I won’t touch you! I’m sorry I even asked! Just eat your breakfast!”

Realizing that things are rapidly spinning out of control, Jensen stops in the hallway. He undresses completely, standing there naked, and sighs. Jared’s already in their room, storming around.

“You can’t get out of this one, Henry, you can’t get it out of me, and with this bullet lodged in my chest, covered with your name, I will turn myself into a gun, because it’s all I have, because I’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own.” He’s starting at the end but desperate times. He keeps his voice lower, as he does whenever he’s reading Siken. The words come out quick and sharp like the bullet and the hunger in the poem itself. His tone is desperate, breathy. “I’ll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting, waking around with this bullet inside me ‘cause I couldn’t make you love me and I’m tired of pulling your teeth. Don’t you see, it’s like I’ve swallowed your house keys, and it feels so natural, like the bullet was already there, like it’s been waiting inside me the whole time.”

Jared peeks out from the room.

Jensen keeps going, breathing in deep, noticing the flush on Jared’s cheeks, the shiny red swell of the pout on his lips.

“Do you want it? Do you want anything I have?” he recites, something too open about the way he says that line. “Will you throw me to the ground like you mean it, reach inside and wrestle it out with your bare hands? If you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand.” He tosses his clothes aside and leans against the wall, looking at the floor, knowing that Jared is watching. “Do you know how it ends?” His tone is cut with a little bit of anger, a mix of bitterness, because that’s how the poem sounds to him in his head. That’s how it sounded the first time he read it. “Do you feel lucky? Do you want to go home now? There’s a bottle of whiskey in the trunk of the Chevy and a dead man at our feet staring up at us like we’re something interesting.”

He lets their eyes meet. The words slow down and he enunciates—clear and crisp—every word.

“This is where the evening splits in half, Henry, love or death. Grab an end, pull hard, and make a wish.”

Jared is biting down on his bottom lip, tears in his eyes. Jensen doesn’t know if they’re good tears or bad tears—he hopes they’re not the latter. He walks up, slow and careful, and takes Jared’s face in between his hands. The first kiss is slow and both of their breaths hitch. The second is deeper; Jensen works Jared’s mouth open and moans when he’s let in. While they’re kissing in the doorway, he slides his hands over Jared’s belly, letting them rest there. Jared leans against the touch and reaches around Jensen’s neck, pulling them closer, breathing out a fluttering sigh. An apology is whispered into Jensen’s ear, but he takes that mouth and covers it with his own, pushing Jared against the hallway wall, drawing out and in the aroused gasp Jared gives.

There’s a whine from Jared when Jensen moves his hands to Jared’s wrists, pinning him against the wall. He feels the tremble that goes through Jared, the tremor of something being coaxed out. Jared tastes the same to Jensen as always; there’s a bite of sweetness that he relishes. Wider and deeper, their mouths are demanding. Jensen squeezes his hands around Jared’s wrists and lets go.

For this to get anywhere it can’t be standing up.

 

An hour later, after some creative usage of pillows and positioning, Jensen is staring up at the ceiling of his room. His chest is covered in hickeys and bite marks, and there’s a mess of come and lube pretty much everywhere. Jared is asleep, curled up on his side, pillows under and around him.

He has to get up. Has to go to work. Has to take a shower, get dressed, and get in his car and…

“Uhh…” Jared groans in his sleep, snorting awake, one hand instantly going to his belly. “Ow…”

“What’s wrong?” Jensen murmurs, trying to shake off his post-sex high. “Jared?”

“Contractions,” is yawned in reply and Jared motions to be helped up. Jensen sits up and pulls Jared to a sitting position. Blinking and wiping drool from his mouth, Jared sniffles, rubbing his belly and wiggling his hips. “This feels so weird.”

“Was I too rough?” Jensen blurts out, getting up and digging around his room for the heat pad.

From his spot on the bed, Jared laughs. “Uhm, Punzel, I could ride your dick forever but it’s notbig enough to do damage _that_ way. Calm down.” Jensen has his phone in hand when he finally finds the heat pad. He plugs it in and places it behind Jared, near the small of his back. “You only need to panic,” Jared breathes out, face scrunched up in discomfort, “if my water breaks. Then we have a problem.”

“My dick is big,” he grumbles and sits on the edge of Jared’s side of the bed. “It’s plenty big.”

Jared smiles. “It is, honey, it is. Uhn. You know, I need to walk. Ugh. Nope. Nope… gonna… oh yeah… gonna throw up.” The smile fades and is replaced with a look of panic. Together, they sprint to the bathroom, where Jared barely makes it in time to throw up into the toilet. It doesn’t take long for Jared to be screaming that this is all Jensen’s fault—him and his dick.

As soon as it’s feasible, Jensen sneaks out of the bathroom.

He stands in the hallway, listening and making sure Jared is okay, while he calls work. At first he thinks he’ll just call in for half the day. But now that Jared’s having contractions—even if he says they’re no big deal—he ends up calling off the entire day, citing needing to take care of a family member, which counts for his sick days. The manager—someone who isn’t Jerry and doesn’t typically run Storybook—doesn’t give two shits and therefore gives Jensen no problems. Grateful, Jensen takes a moment to rejoice in his new day off.

Ten minutes later he’s helping a pale, pissed off Jared into the shower.

Half an hour after that, he’s finally sitting down to his long-since cold breakfast. He heats it up in the microwave and eats three biscuits while Jared watches television and cries from a commercial about chocolate. Just as Jensen is about to suggest that they go to the specialty store and buy a support strap, he gets a text from Rhonda asking him if he’s okay. He texts back right away, letting her know that Jared’s having contractions and he appreciated her switching with him but he’s staying home to keep an eye out. She must be sneaking texts from the set. Her next text is much longer—informing him that it’s a very busy Friday and Jerry is freaking out about missing two employees. Everyone is stressed out and trying to stay out of the way.

“Misha wants to come over,” Jared calls out from the living room. “He wants to take me shopping.” Jared’s bigger clothes are a little snug on him, which caused him tears two nights ago, but the subject seems open to discuss now. “Punzel, can I have some juice?”

Pouring a glass of juice with one hand and scrolling through Rhonda’s texts with the other, Jensen’s brow furrows. The mice are all talking about Jared quitting, making up the most ridiculous rumors about Jared not really being pregnant, about him being a surrogate and cashing in on the triplets, or, this gem here, that Jensen is the father and he’s forced Jared to quit working so he can stay home and Jensen can watch his every move because they belong to a super conservative Christian church.

The juice is delivered and Jensen is gleefully thanked.

He’s about to rant about the mice, about everyone being so fucking messed up, but he notices something.

Jared looks happy. Okay, it’s more than that. He looks settled in. He’s sprawled out on a couch, feet propped up, one hand on his belly and the other holding the glass of apple juice. His hair is messy still from the shower. Jared looks up at him and smiles.

“Punzel,” he coos, taking his hand off his belly and holding it out towards Jensen, “c’mere and pay attention to us.”

Misha will be here in an hour to pick them up. There’s a ton of errands they need to run and they’ve still got that group to meet with tonight. Jensen doesn’t have time for the mice today. He shuts off his phone and sits next to Jared.

According to Jared, the babies require a song and a massage.

Contentedly, Jensen does both.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misha takes them out for lunch; they have to take an unexpected stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sleepy. i sleep now. excuse mistakes. /dead/
> 
> <3

Misha insists on driving and then insists on taking them out to lunch.

“Can’t shop on an empty stomach,” Misha says cheerfully, leading them down the driveway.

“Nope!” Jared chirps, following after. “And I’m eating for four.”

At the end of the driveway is a cherry red SUV, which is a little obnoxious to Jensen, but he understands the appeal of a larger car. There are a few CDs and receipts in the car that Jensen sees when he opens the front door for Jared but it’s not messy or dirty. He helps Jared in and does the seatbelt for him, then gets into the backseat directly behind Jared. It makes Jensen nervous to have someone else driving while Jared’s in the car but no one else seems to have the same feeling. On the drive down Trask—presumably to take 22—Jared and Misha talk about their weeks, with emphasis on how Jared is doing and what the babies have been up to.

“The one on the left,” Jared reports cheerfully, munching on veggies he brought along, “likes to kick every day at exactly four in the afternoon. Unf. And someone keeps mashing up my bladder. Like right now.”

Without any hesitation, Misha pulls over and Jensen scrambles out of the car to help Jared out. No one in the clothing store they run into questions Jared as he sprints through the aisles, Jensen close behind him. One of the employees is nice enough to recognize what’s going on and lets them use the employee single stall bathroom. While waiting for Jared, Jensen stands outside, staring at his sneakers. He’s let Jared use a pair of his flip flops since none of his shoes wear and he didn’t want to wear slippers outside. It’s a nice day out; he’s glad not to be at work and here instead. It’s nearly noon and Misha has promised to drive them on their errands in addition to shopping. When Jensen hears Jared vomiting, he leaves his post and quickly runs to Misha outside, who is double parked.

“He’s gonna be a while,” Jensen says when Misha rolls the passenger window down. “Probably best to park.”

For some reason, Jensen expects people to sigh or roll their eyes when things like this happen. Misha, though, just smiles and agrees. “I’ll meet you inside,” is all he says without a hint of annoyance or impatience. It’s difficult to find parking on this particular block, so Jensen knows that Misha will have to walk at least a block from his spot to the store. When the older man appears in the store with a curious look on his face, Jensen waves to him from the back.

“Is he okay?” Misha asks, sounding concerned. “Maybe…”

“I checked,” Jensen assures him. “He cussed me out. But you can try if you want.”

Jensen stands back and watches Misha make a rookie mistake. The older man opens the door to the bathroom and is instantly screamed at to get out— _get out_! Shutting the door as quickly as possible, Misha looks at Jensen with bewildered, blue eyes wide open. “Holy shit,” is all he mutters. Jensen nods and tries not to smile. For another ten minutes they stand guard outside, not saying much between them, each listening to what's going on inside the bathroom. At last, Jared opens the door and weakly grumbles for Jensen.

Inside the bathroom, Jensen notices that Jared looks pale and exhausted.

“I made a mess,” he whispers, tears in his eyes. “Punzel, my knees hurt…”

“Don’t worry,” Jensen answers, swooping in so Jared doesn’t have to ask. “I see cleaning supplies. Go out with Misha.”

“I can help.”

“You can help by standing outside,” he says firmly and grabs a box of gloves from under the sink. “Seen worse, Jared. Go on. He thinks you hate him.”

Sniffling, Jared mumbles that he only hates people when they interrupt his alone time with the toilet. He hiccups a quiet thank you and leaves. Jensen puts on a pair of vinyl gloves and retrieves a bottle of bathroom cleaner and bleach from the supplies bin he spotted before. He’s worked as a ride operator long enough that clean ups are just part of the job. Storybook is fortunate to not have many instances that require a mop and bucket, but it does happen. His experience at Dumbo prepared him for this. It’s easy enough—Jared didn’t actually make that much of a mess but he doesn’t want to leave it like this when the employee was so nice—and Jensen estimates it’ll take him five minutes. Just as he gets on his knees to clean the toilet and the floor around him, the door opens again. Expecting an employee, he’s surprised to see Misha.

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Misha says, looking around the bathroom. “He had me thinking it was a pea soup kind of deal.”

“Nah,” Jensen murmurs and gets to work.

He’s not sure how to respond when Misha puts on a pair of gloves, gets on his knees, and starts cleaning alongside Jensen. In silence, they finish up and throw away the disposable supplies. Misha sets the rest back under the sink and they both wash their hands. Jensen takes a few paper towels and runs them under the tap for a second. Misha asks what they’re for; Jensen just shows him, walking out and finding the bench near the bathrooms and dressing rooms. Sitting alone, quiet and slightly trembling, Jared has both his hands on his belly. It's an anxiety thing.

Looking up, Jared immediately starts crying. Jensen sits beside him. “I’m sorry,” Jared cries into Jensen’s shoulder. “Punzel, I’m… sorry…”

“You feel better? They still rolling?” Jensen asks, taking a towel and wiping Jared’s face gently. “You wanna stick around here for a while?”

Jared shakes his head. “No, I’m fine now.” He hiccups and asks for juice a moment later, which Misha runs to get at the coffee shop next door. When they get outside, after thanking the employees, Jared is presented with a large bottle of juice, a bottle of water, and a plain sugar cookie. Misha goes and pulls the car around and once again they’re back on their way to Long Beach.

 

In the car, Jared sighs and shifts around in his seat for the entire ride. He says that one baby won’t stop kicking his ribs. The baby is determined and energetic; they don’t stop until Jared is sitting down at the table in the restaurant and Jensen has rubbed his belly for a minute.

“Thank god,” Jared breathes, his eyes fluttering. “Thank you Jen.”

Nodding, Jensen gives Jared’s belly a final rub and picks up his menu. Misha’s brought them to a really nice Mediterranean place. The walls are painted bright yellows and oranges, with calm blue borders and tablecloths. Since it’s nice out, the three of them sit on the patio under an umbrella. With rest and a glass of milk, Jared starts to look less pale.

“Eat up boys,” Misha encourages while they’re looking through the menus. “It’s on me today. Well, okay, technically it’s on Jeff, but you won’t tattle, right?”

“Lips are sealed,” Jared laughs. “I’m so hungry. I just threw up some internal organs but I could eat two of every plate on the menu. Jen, do they have peanut butter here?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been here.”

“Can you ask? Oh, falafels sound really good. Ooh and grape leaves. Chilled tomato juice sounds really, really good. What are you getting, Jen? Misha? I can’t decide. Right now I want chicken but in half an hour I might want steak.”

The peanut butter is forgotten and their waitress comes over. She looks a lot like Rhonda, the same kind of art-school dropout look, but she has bright purple hair. Jared and Misha pick over the appetizer section of the menu and order three dishes from there. Misha gets a glass of white wine and Jared goes for juice and a glass of water. Jensen is offered wine or beer by Misha but he chooses iced tea instead. Their server asks Jensen if he’d like anything else. Confused, he says no, he’s fine. When she comes back with their drinks she spills some tea on his jeans. While she’s passing him napkins and apologizing, Jared is glaring with an intensity that could kill. Or at the very least start fires.

By the end of their delicious and hearty meal, there are four take out boxes for them to take home. The server—whose name is Jenny, as Jensen finds out because she tells him specifically—tosses an ice pack into the bag and hands it to Jensen. She also hands him a napkin with her phone number on it. He stares at it, confused at first, wondering why there’s a series of numbers on a napkin.

“Weird,” Jensen murmurs, showing the napkin to Jared and Misha. “Am I supposed to call?”

“See what happens,” Jared sniffs and punches Jensen in the shoulder. “Maybe if you quit flirting for two seconds…”

“I just asked for a refill!” Jensen quips back with a laugh. He leaves the napkin on the table and helps Jared out of his seat. “C’mon tall man, don’t make me do the Mickey voice.”

“I find the concept of a Mickey voice very frightening,” Misha adds, leaving the check on the table.

Jared snorts and grabs Jensen’s hand, holding it firmly. “It _is_ incredibly scary. Don’t encourage him.”

Walking away from the restaurant, Jensen stops walking. He pulls Jared close and kisses him, sweetly, hands cupping Jared’s face. He bumps their noses together and feels Jared melt under his touch, sighing and hazel eyes half-lidded. Misha watches on with a smile, then turns to get the car. Until Misha pulls up, Jared and Jensen share soft, light kisses. Before parting, Jensen playfully bites Jared’s nose and kisses him again, this time sloppy and loud.

Laughing, Jared swats him away.

“You smiled,” Jensen declares, opening the car door for Jared. “I’m off the hook.”

Misha chimes in. “For now.” 


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the library, waiting for the group to start, Jensen learns more about Jared's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sleepy. forgive any/all mistakes here. will come back to edit later.
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> edits: small edits made. i need to stop posting when i'm falling asleep. XD

Shopping was an experience.

Before Jensen knew it, his arms were full of clothes from both directions—coming from Misha and Jared. Price tags were not to be looked at, according to Misha, who ended up piling most of the mountain onto Jensen. At first, Jared was cautious and pulled conservatively, with hesitance. By the end of the hour and a half that they spent raiding the maternity boutique, he was directing his own fashion show. Glowing and dimples on display, he modeled his selections happily. Jensen and Misha were sure to provide steady applause. Several new outfits were chosen based on simplicity, durability, and comfort. In addition, Misha had one of the employees help Jared choose two support straps. One was an elastic belt that went around his lower back and under his belly, while the other crisscrossed over his chest and shoulders, looping under his belly with a combination of elastic and Velcro. The belt was meant for sleeping and resting while the straps were better if he were walking. Jared kept the straps on one after he tried it on for size and reported a great relief in his lower back.

Jensen only had to make one Starbucks run the entire time they shopped.

At four, Misha dropped them off, with plans to swing by the next day to spend time with Jared while Jensen would be at work. It’s incredibly tempting to Jensen—as he sits on the couch with Jared—to call off for tomorrow. But he’s almost out of sick days and there’s going to be a big event soon that he may need them for. Sitting in the vee of his legs, Jared sighs happily as Jensen starts kissing his neck, hands on his belly, feeling the movement there.

Breath hitching, Jared relaxes, closes his eyes, and murmurs, “Jen, can we have sex again?”

He takes a deep breath in. Jared smells like flour still. A firmer kiss is pressed to the sensitive spot on the shell of Jared’s left ear. “You should nap.”

“No,” Jared whines, brow furrowing. “Sex and then a nap.” He opens his eyes and gives Jensen a smile that means nothing but trouble. “It’ll help me sleep better.” Pulled in by these gentle, promising words, Jensen rearranges them on the couch so that he’s kneeling and Jared is sitting up. He props himself up on the back of the couch, leaning in to kiss Jared, tasting sweetness and the peppermint candy Jared had on the ride from Long Beach. His left hand joins with Jared’s right, resting on the top of his belly.

They get as far as Jensen’s shirt being practically ripped off and his jeans coming undone, before Jared falls asleep.

Left to his own devices, Jensen sighs, scrubbing his face, crossing his legs uncomfortably.

He might as well go fold the new clothes.

 

Hannah drops them off at the library. Jensen wonders why—he is perfectly capable of driving—but he doesn’t ask. They’re half an hour early because Jared was so nervous about meeting new people, so they’re the first ones in the group discussion room Doctor Linda said to meet at. The library has been remodeled in recent years, but Jensen remembers it as a kid when things weren’t so fancy and clean.

Nothing to do until the group starts, they walk around for a few minutes and Jared gets distracted by the kid’s area.

“Look how adorable,” he sniffs, picking up a teddy bear. He's got a stuffy nose, which he assured Jensen was normal and not a sign of him getting sick. “It’s got a tiny bow on.”

Handing Jared a handkerchief, Jensen looks around. There are chairs for kids made to look like tree stumps and fake foliage so that it’s a magic forest. A plastic tea set and the teddy bear are out but there’s a bin of toys against the wall.

The bear is held up to Jensen’s face.

“I’m from a small town in Texas,” the bear says in a high pitched voice and takes a bow. “Everything’s bigger in Texas.”

Interested, Jensen attempts to sit on a tree stump. He pours fake tea out of the pink tea pot. “That right?” he replies in a gruff voice. “Can I offer you a cup of tea?”

Behind the bear, Jensen sees a dimpled smile. “I would love one,” bear replies, holding out its fuzzy arm. “My friend can’t have any, so I’ll drink his for him.” Sugar? “Oh, yes please. Two.” Jensen picks up a spoon the size of his pinky finger and stirs the sugar in, handing over the cup and a saucer. Jared takes it, half holding the bear and the tea. Bear takes tiny, elegant sips.

“How did a bear,” Jensen muses, his tone a little softer, “as pretty and special as yourself, end up all the way out here?”

Looking up at Jared and bear, Jensen waits for an answer.

Bear rests on the top of Jared’s belly. “My friend’s parents… they believe things bears don’t understand. His brother was sent away and got a nice place here. My friend followed after but… they didn’t always get along. Just… just because you look like someone… doesn’t always mean… you don’t fight.” Bear goes quiet for a moment. Jensen can’t see Jared’s face. “Some nights my friend slept in the bus stop or in the diner or stayed at a shelter. He didn’t always know where to go…” Jared’s voice trails off but picks up. “But! He got a job at Disney and his brother was nicer and things were better. A very good friend came to visit from Texas, and he was very sick and he… he asked my friend if they could be more than friends.”

It’s here that Jared sets bear and the tea cup down.

He wipes tears away with Jensen’s handkerchief and looks at Jensen with a sad smile. “I didn’t feel for him the same way he did for me but I wanted to take care of him. That’s the only way I knew how. And he was terrible at it,” Jared laughs, crying a little more. “Sweet and very caring but the boy couldn’t… didn’t even know what a condom breaking meant.” He runs a hand over the wide expanse of his belly. “A week later, back in Texas, he died. A week after that I kept getting sick at Gibson’s. I… I remember you. I saw you once in the parking lot. You walked right past me. I remember thinking, ‘That’s who I would have liked to sleep with. Someone like him.’”

Jensen stands up.

A lot of details about Jared make more sense now. But it’s funny—how looking into someone else’s life can say more about your own.

There’s time for his side of the record later.

 

He embraces Jared tightly, not caring that a few curious parents and their children are watching.

It’s then that he swears never to walk past Jared again.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They attend the group meeting and afterwards, Hannah goes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter uploaded while i'm half asleep. forgive mistakes, i'll come back and edit later on. there's a bit of fan art for this fic, drawn by me. you can find it here: http://ittakesalotofwater.tumblr.com/post/75727270598/some-quick-punzel-art-for-yall-this-kind-of-pose
> 
> i have commissioned the wonderfully talented KamiDiox to create professional art for this fic, so excited for that! 
> 
> enjoy!

The group is made up of people in their late twenties and mid-thirties. Jared is by far the youngest one there, as is Jensen. Most of the partners in the group are men, though there is one woman accompanying her female partner. Still, everyone is very nice and Doctor Linda has brought a cooler full of juice and snacks. Jared sips on a juice box while the group finishes introductions. Although every couple is on their first baby, no other couple is having multiples. When Jared mentions he is carrying triplets, the pregnant partners gasp and there is an outpouring of sympathy from them to Jared. The partners glance at Jensen and nod their heads, as if they’re supposed to have some kind of code.

“Uhm… this is my boyfriend, Jensen,” Jared says to the group and nudges Jensen’s elbow. “He’s not a talker but I talk enough for all five of us.”

Doctor Linda hands Jensen a box of orange juice. He doesn’t drink it.

He hates introductions.

“Are you excited to be a dad?” one of the ladies asks. Jensen feels Jared tense up immediately.

“I…” Jensen starts but takes a second to change what he was going to say. “I’m excited to see Jared’s kids grow up.”

Smoothly, Doctor Linda pats Jensen’s shoulder and explains to the group that Jared is looking into open adoption and that Jensen is not the biological father. “But, he’s a wonderful partner and only had to wear the pregnancy suit for fifteen minutes. We can always bring that out again, in case anyone has forgotten what it’s like for your expecting partners.” There are a series of groans from half the room, Jensen included. Jared huffs and is about to say something but Jensen hands him the juice box. This is distraction enough to keep Jensen from being a volunteer for the suit.

The topic of the night is sex in the third trimester.

For the entire time, Jensen fidgets in his chair. It’s not the subject that bothers him, it’s talking about it in front of people that makes him go quiet.

When demonstration time comes around, Jensen wants to crawl under his chair. Doctor Linda isn’t shy at all and pulls Jensen right in. Every expectant partner is sitting on a yoga mat, with their partners on the edge, everyone awaiting instruction. Doctor Linda uses Jared and Jensen as her model couple. Jared is, of course, delighted, and keeps laughing every time Jensen is placed into position by Doctor Linda.

“There are a few things that have changed since our second trimester demonstration,” she announces and places a wedged pillow under Jared’s hips. “Resting flat on your back isn’t recommended and probably isn’t too comfortable for you anymore. A pillow wedge like this is helpful when paired with this position. This first position is a good one for the third trimester and your middle is, well, quite generous.”

“Very generous,” Jared snickers.

Doctor Linda walks around the room and gently instructs every couple on the position. “Rest on the edge of the bed, bending your knees. I know, I know, it might make you feel like you’re at my office but rest assured there are no stirrups involved. Now, partners, your job here is to kneel or stand in front, thrusting at an angle that doesn’t place uncomfortable pressure for either of you. Okay, Jensen, kneel in front.”

Grimacing, Jensen hesitates. He’s pulled in by Jared, who won’t stop laughing.

“I’m sorry Punzel,” he snorts, wiggling his hips evilly. “The look on your face though…”

Walking past, Doctor Linda gives an approving nod. She places a hand on Jensen’s lower back and presses at a certain spot. He gasps and leans over Jared, careful not to put too much of his weight on Jared’s belly. This puts him and Jared almost close enough to kiss. Jensen blushes but Jared smiles.

“Approaching the end of your pregnancy may diminish your sexual drives. That is perfectly normal and I know that all of the partners in this room will be respectful and accommodating. Imagine about thirty or forty pounds of pressure on your pelvis and I think you’ll understand why your partner may not want to engage in penetrative sex past week thirty-two. However, as many in my field of study are fond of saying, just because one ride is shut down doesn’t mean the entire amusement park is closed. The next position is for penetrative sex but involves expecting partners on their sides. If I could have you all turn onto your left sides please.”

The pillows are moved and most of the partners are able to move onto their sides on their own. Jensen helps Jared and places a pillow under his belly.

“This is a great teaching moment,” Doctor Linda announces, standing next to Jared and Jensen’s mat. “Jensen has placed a pillow to help support Jared’s middle. That’s great and very considerate.” All the other partners do the same. “This position does place most of the work on the penetrating partner, but it’s all well worth it. Partners, lie down to spoon.” Jensen follows directions but still feels incredibly awkward. Jared kisses his knuckles.

“Expecting partners, it’ll be your job to tell your partner what feels good and what doesn’t. You’ll have to adjust the angle of your hips and their hips by leaning forward or back until everything feels good. Remember that the object here is for _you_ to feel good. Any pain or discomfort should be vocalized immediately. If communication doesn’t happen here, it’s going to be difficult moving forward anywhere else.” She stands in the center of the room. “This is a great position for late night sex. The further along you are in your pregnancy, the move vivid and potentially sexual your dreams will be. When you find the right angle, this will be wonderful can’t sleep activity. Partners, what you want to do here is keep your thrusts gentle and according to what your partner feels comfortable with. In this position you can easily reach forward and stimulate your partner’s penis or clitoris at the same time you’re penetrating. In addition, this is especially true for folks with multiples, your partner will want to have one hand supporting your middle just in case.”

A few more tips and positions are listed through, but Jensen finds that he knows most of what Doctor Linda is explaining from what he’s read and what they’ve already figured out. Jared prefers riding him or being on his knees bent over—on his side or back are uncomfortable and make him feel like a blimp.

“A really, really bloated and immobile blimp,” he had said once, giving up and trying another position.

The end of the class is for questions and discussion that Doctor Linda facilitates. A few of the expecting partners ask about constipation, hemorrhoids, and needing to pee during sex. A lot of this is already familiar to Jensen, either from his books or Jared sharing without hesitance. Jared listens carefully, holding Jensen’s hand. He asks about when it might be okay to stop using condoms.

“Once you’re past thirty-two weeks,” Doctor Linda answers, “you can stop. We don’t want to take any risks from any factors.” After two more questions, Doctor Linda encourages open discussion. One of the ladies asks Jared about his cravings and one of the dads asks Jensen about sympathy pains. By the end of the hour, Jared is chatting along with most of the other expecting parents. The group splits and the expecting parents compare bumps, Jared winning by far.

On the partner side of the room, there are many sympathetic noises as a few people speak about three in the morning runs to the nearest 24-hour convenience stores for pretzels and spray cheese. They go around and try to compare the strangest cravings. Jensen doesn’t win but he’s close with his entry of spinach and peanut butter sandwiches.

Every few minutes, Jensen looks over and finds Jared on the other side of the room.

What he can’t believe is that Jared does the same thing.

 

“You’re going on a date?”

“Yes, Jensen. It’s not that complicated.”

“Now? It’s almost ten!”

“I know my chariot might turn into a pumpkin at midnight, Jensen, but that is a risk I am willing to take. Jared, you’ll keep the house from burning down, yes?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Hannah sighs and smiles. “What a nice response to hear for a change.” She tosses Jensen a look.

“Have fun!” Jared chirps, grabbing Jensen’s arm. “Thank you again for the pillows, Doctor Linda!”

Jensen just stares at Doctor Linda’s car as it pulls away, Doctor Linda driving with Hannah beside her. His stepmother is going on a date. With another woman. And not just any woman—his boyfriend’s doctor. Since when did their lives get so tangled up? And Hannah has never mentioned to him that she was attracted to women. Did he miss something? Had he not been present for an important announcement?

A poke to his cheek disrupts his anxiety.

“Excuse me,” Jared sings, poking Jensen’s cheek. “Some of us are hungry you know.”

“So?” Jensen grumbles in reply, digging the keys out of his pocket.

“ _So_ ,” is snapped back at him. “It’s four against one, Punzel. Guess who’s gonna win. You feelin’ fortunate, hooligan?”

Helping Jared into the front seat, Jensen corrects him. “It’s _you feelin’ lucky, punk_. Don’t misquote Dirty Harry.” As Jensen climbs into the driver’s seat, Jared declares that if he wants to mangle Clint Eastwood quotes, he will. For the entire ride home they bicker back and forth about nothing. While Jensen carries everything Doctor Linda gave them from the car to the house, Jared starts talking. He makes a few comments on how well-rested some of the expecting parents looked and wishes he looked that good. Before Jensen can get a word in, Jared flits to the next topic, which is how on earth did he get so damn big in the span of almost eight months. “God help me if I have to get up on my own. Jen, do we still have Poptarts? I could go for those dipped in peanut butter. And a glass of milk. Maybe some carrots and ranch.”

One tray full of Poptarts, peanut butter, milk, carrots, and ranch later, they are settled on the couch, watching a few episodes of The Simpsons. Jared claims it’s a vulgar show but somehow he manages to imitate and quote Ralph Wiggum perfectly. By the third episode, Jensen is mumbling into Jared’s shoulder, “Gold bars discovered by Jared—zero. Gold bars discovered by Jensen…”  

By midnight, he’s asleep.

Somewhere around twelve thirty, Jared is pushing him into bed, folding the blankets over him and turning off the light. Jensen manages to make a weak protest but Jared quickly shushes him. On his own, even though he’s breathing hard, Jared hefts himself onto the bed, next to Jensen, and situates himself with the new pillows. Jensen turns so that he’s curled up against Jared.

“Your feet are cold,” Jared murmurs, kissing Jensen’s hand again.

“Do the voice, Jared.”

“No. Go to sleep.”

“C’mon.”

“Go to sleep.”

“Not sleeping,” Jensen yawns, “until you do the voice.”

 

Eventually, Jared gives in. It’s been a long day.

“Me fail English? That’s unpossible.” 


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen leaves for work but grabs some post-its first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /cries/ this chapter... short but sweet. ;w;
> 
> enjoy! tell me how this affected you because i rolled off my chair and squealed after writing this. XD

The pillows are magic.

When Jensen wakes up, Jared is still asleep. For the past few weeks it’s been a rarity for Jared to sleep past four in the morning. But there he is, snoring softly, belly rising with steady and deep breathing.

There are a few minutes that Jensen spends taking everything in, closing his eyes and committing this morning to memory. He picks up the smallest details and saves them for the rest of the day. It’s Saturday and he’s going to need them to survive the weekend wave of tourists. Plus, Jerry is scheduled and Jensen knows that tune already. Before he peels himself off of Jared, he presses his nose to Jared’s shoulder and inhales. Jared smells like California sun and fabric softener. A quick, light kiss, and Jensen is standing cold in the shower, sighing every thirty seconds.

Around the house he’s careful and quiet. He eats a bowl of cereal and downs a cup of coffee, then grabs his keys and makes sure he has his wallet. All set to go he locks the back door. Yes, he knows he’s stalling but he can’t help it. A walk around the entire house—Hannah isn’t home, jeez—reveals that the stove isn’t on, things are locked, and Jared’s phone is charged.

There’s a pad of post-its on the counter that Hannah keeps to write notes on. He’s got to get going if he wants to arrive a few minutes early instead of exactly on time.

He grabs the post-its and a pen and scribbles what he needs to on his walk from the living room to his bedroom. Jared is still asleep, hugging one of the pillows and drooling slightly.

Jensen peels off five post-its.

The first is set by Jared’s line of sight, on the pillow. Three are pressed onto the pillow near his belly. The last one is left on the nightstand. Satisfied with his scheme, he takes one perfect picture that requires no filter or adjustment. Jensen walks out a little lighter, tossing his keys.

At work, Rhonda corners him. “Who did you kill?” she asks, suspicious of his good mood.

Feeling generous, like everyone should have what he has, he breaks a cast member rule and pulls out his phone. Bringing up the picture, Rhonda punches him in the shoulder, happily shrieking that he needs to get that framed and that he’s a lucky bastard and he should never take it for granted.

Putting his phone away, Jensen sees the picture in his mind throughout the entire morning.

It’s a picture of Jared asleep, completely restful, his hair fanned out over his pillow. His pajama shirt is bunched up at his belly so the underside of it peeks through. But the angle of morning light draped over Jared in just the right way. Combined with the glow Jared gets with rest, Jared’s cheeks are rosy. Beside him are the post-its Jensen drew on. The first has two hearts joined together. The next three each have one heart. And the last one, which isn’t shown in the picture, says a few simple words. He's never drawn hearts before and he feels a little silly and childish for doing so now. But he hopes Jared might keep that last post-it. 

_Yours. Mine. Ours._


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen has a terrible day at work and spends it worrying that he's crossed a line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh! so the way my schedule at work right is totally completely opposite of my natural best writing times. so tonight i only had time to add to this Punzel chapter that i had already started last night/at lunch. forgive me, but enjoy this chapter!
> 
> this is definitely not the end--there's lots more to go in this fic--but this is an important chapter. :D (does anyone remember how i vowed to keep this fic short...? ha!)
> 
> okay i'm off to bed! leave me some comments? they are greatly appreciated! <3 thanks for reading! more to follow.

His good morning does not last long.

By noon, it’s a sweltering and intolerable eighty-five degrees. At home this would be no problem; Jensen could sprawl out on the grass in the backyard and let the day pass by. Here is entirely different. Eighty-five degrees in an already uncomfortable uniform, surrounded by cranky and obnoxious weekend tourists and families, trapped on an infinite loop around Storybook because Jerry has scheduled him to do tours four hours in a row… Jensen’s smile is straining. His mood took a nose-dive from his brief moment with Rhonda when Jerry told him someone complained about his tours not being peppy enough and would he mind sounding more sincere, thanks.

When teenagers try to throw something at the miniature of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride Jensen can feel his right eye twitch. One Cast Member warning—given in a friendly, dangerously cheerful tone—and the teenagers don’t respond to it. Finally, mid-way through, Jensen gets off of his tour guide perch and walks over to them on the boat. He’s not supposed to use his height to intimidate guests, it says so in the Cast Member Handbook, but he has officially run out of patience.

At lunch, his craving for a chili dog has reached murderous levels. The moment arrives when he finally, at long last wrangles one from a vendor in the park but the bun is soggy and the chili gives him heartburn. The worst thing out of all of this is when he checks his phone. There isn’t one single message or missed call from Jared. He even restarts his phone just in case but when it lights up again it’s the same.

In the break room, he wheedles an antacid from one of the Casey Jr. ladies.

By two, he promises a piece of his soul to another coworker if they’ll switch tours and maintenance with him. At three, Jerry posts an announcement at the podium, where greeters escort guests onto the boats. Jensen goes to read it and discovers that Antonio, one of the miniatures apprentices, has won Mr. Yamamoto’s position as Head Gardener. At three thirty, Jerry is snapping at Jensen and Rhonda for not smiling enough while they're pruning. By four, Jensen is hiding behind the Alpine village.

“Maybe you went a little too far with the ‘ours’ thing,” Rhonda mentions as they wearily walk out of Storybook at four thirty.

“You think?” Jensen snaps. “Fuck. I was just… ours like… if he… if he wants me around while… I don’t know!” They pass Gibson’s and Jensen bristles. “I tried and it just… I was…”

Rhonda laughs. “This is _way_ different from your problems before. Not that I knew what they were because you, well, you never spoke more than two sentences to anyone, but c’mon! Lighten up. Even if you kinda sorta did go a little overboard with that note it’s just Jared. It’s not like he’ll cuss you out or throw your ass out onto the street or dump you.” Jensen gives her a look and she smiles nervously. “He _won’t_ do that!”

Out in the parking lot, a Princess walks by.

A few months ago he would have noticed her in a different way. Now, he just notices how out of place her long hair is. Most cast member ride operators keep their hair short or tied back for safety and regulation. He sighs and gets to his car, Rhonda still following.

“Can I bum a ride home from you?” she asks in a small voice, less confident than when she was talking two minutes ago.

“Yeah,” is all he says and unlocks the doors. She’s half an hour out of his way but he doesn’t mind; it’s a good way to return the favor for her switching shifts yesterday and looking after Jared. In the miracle of air conditioning of his car, with the radio blasting, he starts to breathe a little easier. Rhonda starts singing and fake drum playing to “All the Small Things,” and when “The Rock Show” comes on Jensen sings along, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He head bangs a little. Just a little.

It’s a fairly painless drive--a relief after the day he’s had. Rhonda lives on the edge of Anaheim and Fullerton, near the corner of Orangethorpe and Euclid, so it’s a fairly straight shot up. When traffic starts to thicken into molasses, Jensen ditches the main road and takes side streets. He remembers this neighborhood. With a few directions down smaller streets, Rhonda guides him until he’s pulling into the correct apartment complex. Before she gets out, she looks over at him with a smile. “You’re not as mean as you think you are, Jensen.”

He can’t help but snarl at the comment. “Whatever. Go on. Get.”

She sees right past that. It occurs to him that he has somehow made a friend. “Thanks, I appreciate the ride. Tell Jared I said hi!” Rhonda leaves but not without giving Jensen a quick hug. He pats her shoulder in an attempt to reciprocate the affection and makes sure she gets into her apartment before driving away. He wonders how the hell they've worked together for so long and he never knew she was a Blink fan. Using a combination of the GPS on his phone and what he remembers Rhonda telling him, he manages to find his way back to the main road. Getting back to Anaheim takes less time, but it still puts him at arriving forty-five minutes later than he normally would.

There are still no missed calls or messages on his phone as he’s pulling into the driveway. He parks and sees Misha’s SUV parked on the street.

There’s laughter coming from the backyard and it causes Jensen’s bad mood to return with a vengeance. He was stuck at work all day, in the sun, swarmed by weekend tourists and now he’s home where people are happy. His uniform is wrinkled and gross with sweat and the odor of the most magical place on earth. His feet hurt and climbing into bed and hiding from the world is his ultimate goal. Grumbling to himself, he walks over to the backyard and goes unnoticed for a minute.

Laid out before him is a scene of perfect chaos.

To his immediate right are an abandoned game of Scrabble. a bucket of hard lemonade bottles, and two empty cartons of apple juice. On the patio table there is a mini grill, in addition to plates and bags of chips. Beside the table is an iPod dock and speakers, currently playing something Top 40’s pop from a station. And then at long last, there they are.

Jared is in the center of the backyard, sitting on a giant rubber exercise ball, being held up by Jeff while Misha and Hannah mimic the movements Jared is doing on two smaller balls. Moving his hips and belly in large clockwise motions, Jared focuses on his breathing, Jeff telling him when to inhale and exhale. They’re all focused until Misha falls off his ball and Jared erupts into laughter. Jensen stands at the edge of the patio and watches Hannah flail to try and help Misha up, but she ends up falling over just as well.

“Jen!”

Damn. Spotted. Well, he managed one secret picture. He waves to Jared, who is peering over Jeff’s arms.

“Help me up? Oof, thank you,” Jared says to Jeff, getting on his feet once more. Everyone is dressed casual, in jeans and shirts, while Jared is in dark shorts and a gray undershirt. Jensen meets him halfway. After a full night of sleep and an entire day of doing much the same that Jensen has seen right now, Jared is… well, there’s no other word to describe him: radiant. It’s a flowery word but it fits. No. He's supposed to be super cranky and upset with the world. But right in front of him are dimples, a wide, open grin, bright hazel eyes… Jared gives him a light but sweet kiss. The seniors start booing and hooting in the background.

“Someone’s phone isn’t working,” Jared whispers, fingers tapping on Jensen’s chest. “Come inside, I gotta talk to you.”

“What about the giant balls?” Misha calls out as they open the screen door to head in.

“We’ll be right back,” Jared responds with a laugh. “Then Jen can have his turn going ass over kettle.”

Just as the screen door shuts, Hannah cries out to Jeff and Misha, “I need more liquor, one of you handsome men grab me some!”

Even though Jared is holding his hand, guiding him towards his room, Jensen is still nervous. Is this the before break up talk? I like you but I don’t really see you in my future kind of talk? Let’s stay friends? Hey it’s been great but I’m moving on with my life and my kids so see you later? He’s practically hyperventilating when Jared asks him to sit down on the bed.

He does as he’s told and opens his mouth to apologize for the note.

“Don’t get wordy now,” Jared murmurs, his hair messy and framing his face, which already looks fuller and rosier. “I’m gonna set the clock on my phone, okay? Five minutes.” Jared does this and hands the phone to Jensen, who places the phone on the bed. He looks up at Jared, who is standing in front of him, for further direction.

Jared lifts up his undershirt. “You have five minutes to tell me how they’re positioned. Go, you’re wasting time!”

There’s hesitation and confusion, but Jensen eventually presses his hands onto Jared’s belly. Jared sighs and closes his eyes. He cards his fingers through Jensen’s hair and whispers that feeling won’t be enough. “Go on,” he encourages in a soft voice.

The window is open and it’s much cooler now than when Jensen was at work. Little by little the tension and stress of the day starts to fade. It’s not gone completely but he starts to focus on his task. With every breath Jared takes, his belly rises. He doesn’t have the belt on and he probably should, but that’s not what Jensen needs to focus on right now. There are a million other thoughts in his head, including some random lines of poetry, and he fights to push them back. The only way for him to totally concentrate is to close his eyes and press his ear against Jared’s belly. He’s tentative at first, but he feels a kick and takes it as a clue. Two seconds later there’s another kick on the opposite side that he feels with his right hand. He breathes in deep. Jared smells like grass and apple juice and fresh air.

 A kick from underneath. It feels almost impatient, like he’s not paying attention to whomever is responsible for the motion. With care he moves his hand further down to the underside of Jared’s belly, where the stretch marks are the largest.

Another kick from that same spot causes Jensen to smile. When his hand is pressed there for a minute, the kicking stops, as if satisfied with the attention.

Okay, he can do this.

At the four minute mark he’s got his answer. “The biggest one is here,” he murmurs, keeping his ear on Jared’s belly, fascinated. “One is here and the other is right next door.” The babies have decided to form an upside down pyramid, with the largest baby at the bottom and its siblings up top.

The alarm on the phone goes off. Jensen silences it. He looks up at Jared.

“Took everyone else at least ten minutes,” Jared says, running his hand over his belly, joining Jensen’s. “And only Jeff guessed right.”

He feels the need to crack a joke about a prize but he doesn’t. Instead, he waits for Jared to speak again.

Jared keeps his voice quiet. “I used to think happiness was for other people. Everyone but me. Your head gets kind of screwed up when your parents are Southern Baptists who kick out your brat twin brother for sleeping around with all the single girls in a town of five hundred people—then kick you out for not wanting to marry any girl ever because well, you’re kind of gay.” Jared has a small smile on while he says this but it doesn’t reach his eyes; Jensen knows that Jared is trying his best not to make the story sad. “There’s a lot I haven’t told you, Punzel. I got beaten up three times before they changed the locks and twice in a shelter out here because… I didn’t… I didn’t know any better. But I learned. That’s the great part. I learned and I adapted and I don’t even walk the same way I did when I got here a year ago. Well, especially not now. I waddle, but that’s not the point.”

Jared ruffles Jensen’s hair.

“I also know there’s a lot you haven’t told me. But that’s okay. There’s time for that, at least, that’s what I tell myself. Because… I kind of plan on sticking around and bothering you for a long, long time. Uhm... me and three other people, if you don’t mind.” Jared pulls Jensen up so they’re standing face to face, holding hands. “I want you in their lives, Punzel. I want you there as much as you’ll have us.”

Their eyes meet. Jared laughs first; Jensen’s not too far behind.

They hug.

“Count me in,” Jensen whispers, his turn to press a kiss to Jared’s lips.

Jared squeezes his hands and bumps their noses together. He takes a deep breath and hugs Jensen one more time. “Jen?”

“Yeah?”

“I… I’m gonna say yes. I asked them for once a week.”

“You are? And?”

Jensen is tugged towards the hallway so they can rejoin the others outside.

“Misha laughed,” Jared reports happily, “and Jeff told me they were gonna make me an offer I couldn’t refuse. And I couldn’t but I didn’t answer. I wanted you here before I did.”

“And what?” Jensen presses, stopping them before Jared opens the screen door. “What’s the offer?’

His nose is kissed.

“Joint custody with full legal and physical rights.”

 

In fifteen minutes, Saturday afternoon turns from a hang out to a party.

And when Jared finally gets Jensen on a rubber exercise ball later on, he lasts thirty seconds before going ass over kettle. 


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen is sent out for food at midnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sleeeeeep. /head desk/
> 
> Ps. If you could see two bonus scenes in They Met, what would you suggest? Comment or drop an ask at ittakesalotofwater.tumblr.com. <3

“You used to swear.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

“Go to sleep, Jensen.”

“I remember it. Now I can’t say fuck without…”

“Don’t swear, Jensen!”

“…that.”

“You fell asleep with your toothbrush in your mouth, plastered against the wall. What do you know?”

“I know that something changed.”

“Hmph.”

“I dunno what though.”

“I’m thirsty. Go get me a glass of milk.”

“You had two before bed.”

“So? I want another.”

“Right away, your highness. This simple commoner is honored to get the royal glass of milk.”

“The commoner is going to be missing a dangling piece of their body very soon.”

“I could live without it.”

“Why are you still here?!”

“Tell me what changed and I’ll go get you two glasses of milk.”

“And carrots.”

“And carrots.”

“And some fried chicken.”

“What? No! It’s almost midnight!”

“Oh god, and some Cajun fries. And mashed potatoes. And a Big Mac.”

“I’d have to stop at two different places, Jared, I’m not going out. You’re getting a glass of milk and that’s it.”

“And a strawberry sundae. But I want honey mustard for the Big Mac. You have to tell them at the first window or they forget.”

“I’m not fuckin’ going out at midnight on a Sunday for junk food.”

Fifteen minutes later, Jensen is talking to a box, ordering from a hand written list. He tells the box that he wants honey mustard packets, then tells the person at the first window he wants honey mustard packets, and finally, he tells the person at the second window he’d like extra honey mustard packets, please.

In the living room, he spreads out the food he’s procured from McDonald’s and the Popeye’s on Katella. There’s a Big Mac, fries, a large bottle of water, a strawberry sundae, a two-piece chicken dinner with mashed potatoes, biscuits, and Cajun fries. Jared is too busy eating to protest Jensen putting on The Simpsons. A few of the McDonald’s fries are given to Jensen without him losing a limb but the rest of the food is consumed. Jensen cleans up the wrappers and the bags. Back from his trip to the kitchen, he brings Jared a large, cold glass of milk, powder already mixed in. Jared drinks the entire thing in one go and makes himself comfortable on the sofa, both hands on his bare belly since he was hot a few minutes ago and shucked his shirt.

“Jen?”

He’s just sat down.

“You didn’t get me carrots.”

He gets the carrots.

Jared finishes a bag of baby carrots and finally, Jensen helps him off the couch and back into bed. The wedge is a god send; Jared’s belly hangs wider and lower now, affecting the way he walks and creating more strain and pressure on his back. At least the wedge makes sleeping less uncomfortable. It takes them a few minutes to get Jared situated for the night but soon enough, Jensen is curling against Jared’s back, tossing the covers over both of them.

“Jen?”

“No.”

“You should’ve gone to sleep earlier if you didn’t want me to ask you for things.”

“…”

“Are you mad?”

He sighs and kisses Jared’s shoulder blade. “I’m not mad.”

“Good,” Jared murmurs, letting out a breath.

A minute passes.

“My parents swore a lot, especially when they argued. I… well, I don’t wanna be like that. I don’t want them hearing any swearing from us. I just figure that now is as good a time as any to stop and form new habits.”

“You could’ve told me.”

“Yeah. I could have. I can. I’m still adjusting.”

“I won’t say no to you, Jared.”

“You just did!”

“I won’t say no to you for important things!”

“Getting me food isn’t important?!”

“I didn’t say that…”

“Oh god you’re probably so tired and I made you go out to two places just so I could pig out…”

“I was just giving you a hard time, Jared, it wasn’t a big deal…”

“Big deal? I’m a big deal? What else am I? A wide deal? A _heavy_ deal?”

“I didn’t… I’m not…”

“Go to sleep, Jensen!” 


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared's bad day is bad for both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots of mentions of the not so glamorous sides of pregnancy. poor jared. poor jensen. XD
> 
> don't feel bad for laughing; if jared weren't so cranky, he'd be laughing too. but don't laugh too loud... jared might hear you. XD
> 
> i'm sleepy! to bed! <3

On Sunday, it’s Jared’s turn for a no good, terrible, awful bad day.

It begins at six in the morning with a symphony of vomiting followed by a front seat concert of heartburn and finished with an encore of constipation. Jensen reminds himself that the plus side to all of this is that living permanently with Jared will yield very few secrets about each other.

Halfway through the day, when Jared is in bed recovering from the morning storm of bodily functions, Jensen tells him the story of his first summer at Disneyland and how ridiculously unprepared he was. The story ends with Jensen crashing into Goofy, toppling over a vendor cart, and landing on his face. It makes Jared laugh, which is great. But it also makes Jared pee himself, which is not so great.

Hannah has to dive in and help Jared to the bathroom for a shower because Jared refuses to even look at Jensen, screeching at him if he dares to get near. Jensen allows Hannah to take over for the time being.

When Jensen returns from his run an hour later, Jared, who is freshly showered and dressed, pulls him in for a kiss. The kiss turns messy quickly; there’s a lot of spit and none of it is Jensen’s. When Jared shuts himself in Jensen’s room, Jensen sits against the door and tries telling Jared that he’s read about how pregnant people produce excess saliva due to hormones.

“You drool all over me at night anyway, what’s a little more spit in a kiss?” Jensen adds.

This is the wrong thing to say.

He is banished.

 

A few hours later, Hannah has gone on a grocery run. She leaves a note on the fridge for Jensen that reads: don’t be stupid. This is apparently easier said than done.

Jared is in the living room watching a documentary on dinosaurs. He looks over, starts to cry, and apologizes to Jensen, who calmly says there is nothing to apologize for. Jared shakily grabs Jensen’s hand and they sit together to watch the part on herbivores. With the house to themselves and Jared in a slightly better mood, they start making out. Jared’s hands quickly dive into Jensen’s jeans. At warp speed, Jensen finds himself lying on the floor, being ridden like there’s no tomorrow.

He wants to tell Jared to take it easy, slow it down because Jared’s knees will hurt later if he’s on them for this long, but he senses that he should refrain from speaking. Instead, Jensen tries to silently show Jared that he is interested in what they’re doing. His hands join Jared’s on his belly and together, they move as a unit, creating a steady rhythm. Just as they’re both about to come, Jared makes a face and freezes. He places a hand under his belly and grimaces, like he’s in pain, then slowly lifts himself off of Jensen’s cock and simultaneously burps and breaks wind.

There is nothing Jensen can say that gets Jared to stop crying after that.

He gets Jared to drink a glass of water in between sobs at least.

Just as the glass is being passed back to Jensen, Jared sneezes onto his shirt and Jensen’s.

The picture that Hannah comes home to is anything but pretty.

 

Monday is meant for going to Santa Monica and working out legal things with Misha and Jeff. Everyone goes to bed early and Jensen is exhausted when his head hits his pillow. It took half an hour to get Jared settled in bed, the babies are extra active tonight, and there were two last minute trips to the bathroom.

Jared falls asleep pretty fast though, something they are both grateful for.

An hour later, Jensen is wide awake.

He can’t sleep.

Jared won’t stop snoring. And it’s not just any snoring. It’s like a chain saw is sleeping next to him, blasting away at a numbing decibel. This reminds Jensen of his father, but he never had to sleep beside his father. He’s afraid to wake Jared up and ask him to put in saline drops or to prop himself up a little more, but what else can he do?

In the end, Jensen decides not to wake him up. He grabs his pillow, digs out a blanket from a drawer, and situates himself in the armchair next to the bed. Closing his eyes, he takes in a deep breath. It’s going to be a long, emotional day tomorrow. Sleep is important. Rest is necessary.

He sighs in frustration when his nose starts to feel stuffy. 


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah knows it isn't one-sided at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally! i started this chapter 10 different times. phew. glad to have it done.
> 
> sorry about only updating Punzel and not House or Your Law. my new store is opening this week and everything is chaotic. i hope to have more time to write on tuesday. ;-; 
> 
> enjoy! i sleep now. <3
> 
> the poem here is "the pale blue shutters" by susan minot.
> 
> EDIT: I HAVE ART FOR YOU!
> 
> Kamidiox finished the commission! Go see it here! :D 
> 
> http://ittakesalotofwater.tumblr.com/post/76931383697/jensen-is-a-ride-operator-at-the-storybook-land

Hannah:

Monday morning is chaotic.

She comes back at ten thirty from a quick trip to the office to find the boys in the bathroom. Jensen relays the details quickly. Jared woke up at six, his lower back in pain, and at seven started throwing up. Most of it is now dry heaving, with Jensen trying to push liquids into Jared, threatening to take him to the hospital if he doesn’t listen. The nausea is slowly wearing off but they both look exhausted.

Covered in sweat and small traces of vomit, her stepson is more concerned about how Jared feels than about his own comfort or appearance. He tells Hannah, from his place on the floor beside Jared, that Jared has started lactating. Jared hangs his head into the toilet and sobs.

“What did you think would happen in the third trimester?” Jensen says, pulling Jared out of the toilet.

“I’m so sorry Dr. Spock!” Jared hisses. “Let me just roll out the red carpet because now I’m not only as big as a house and gassy and sweaty but _now_ I’m also leaking!”

Before Jensen can reply, Jared throws up all over him.

Hannah laughs. She hands Jensen a towel, expecting him to snap at her or Jared. Instead, Jensen murmurs a thanks and gently eases Jared back towards the toilet, rubbing his lower back. When Jared screams his frustration into the bowl, Jensen encourages him to release the stress.

An hour later, after a bath with Jensen and Hannah’s combined efforts, Jared is eased into bed. There’s no Santa Monica trip today. Linda—well, Doctor Linda to the boys—is called and she promises to make a house call in an hour on her lunch break. Jensen is assured there’s no need to panic about Jared throwing up so much unless he’s dizzy or bleeding. They are both reminded that the third trimester for a person carrying triplets is the most difficult part of pregnancy. Jared starts crying all over again.

She watches Jensen pull out a handkerchief and wipe Jared’s face as he tells Jared to take a deep breath.

When she leaves them to make lunch, Jensen is sitting beside Jared, holding his hand and rubbing his belly. He recites a lovely poem, his voice soft and melodic, until Jared falls asleep.

Jensen walks into the kitchen like a zombie.

After his glass of orange juice, he leans against the fridge, humming a tune Hannah knows from somewhere but can’t remember. She figures it out when she hears Jensen sing to it on his way to the bathroom for a shower.

“Keep on dreamin’ even if it breaks your heart…”

 

Jensen has recited one poem to Hannah, just about two years ago.

He was eighteen and devastated.

On the patio he sought her out. She had been putting in flowers that day and thought he’d be out for hours. Instead, he appeared only half an hour later, grief in his eyes and tears down his face. For him to bury his face in her chest and give deep, heaving sobs, she knew it had to be bad.

Her spade was set down and her gloves tossed aside. She held him like he was five again and the world was full of questions and truths that caused owies and boo-boos.

It had to be Liam.

 

When her stepson regained enough composure to speak, his words were a poem that came from a little black, smooth book he had been carrying for quite some time. That book had been an indication that not all was well; not all was right. Lord knows her child tried. He was on the phone constantly, speaking in hushed, soothing tones or playing the guitar with the phone set down and on speaker. Yes, he tried for so long, blaming himself for everything, until he became bitter and resentful and hard.

It hurt her.

It caused her many sleepless and anxious nights to see him up at two in the morning, struggling to win as Sisyphus, the boulder growing larger every time. His efforts were nothing short of Herculean. Jensen hung the stars up and lassoed the moon. Still it was not enough.

She told him once that it would never be enough.

How do you tell your child that they would never be enough? And it wasn’t his fault, never, she kept emphasizing that. She wanted to paint that across the sky for him: it’s not your fault. It wasn’t his fault Liam couldn’t keep it together, couldn’t see what was right in front of him, couldn’t appreciate what Jensen had to offer.

When she had her first child, she remembered thinking that the worst possible thing that could happen to her son was something physical. But what is a broken arm to a broken heart?

She listened to the poem as they sat on the ground and he was held close to her.

“I feel the pale blue shutters,” he cried, “butting stone and the nervous birds in flushing trees. I feel the men on the motorinos sporting black glasses.” Shaking, he took a deep breath and sat up a little straighter. “The absence of the sea. I feel how far away you are from me. I feel the thin afternoon sun like a net. The blue and white tiles beneath my boots. Feel you leaving again. Feel the orange walls where you live, the orange walls you’ve left. Feel I’ve zero to give. Feel the cactus by the door. Feel the way you say good night, pondering the floor. Feel the tower’s glinting dome. Feel that everything’s cracked apart and everything apart from me is sweet. Feel how far away I am from home and how worn out. Feel the Roman heat. Feel that everything here is yours. Feel the ghosts of children near. Feel them shouting out of doors. Feel the darkness that you hold breaking on my chest. Feel the women you keep somewhere…”

Her son pauses here, his breath catching.

It has taken him six months after the breakup to realize what Liam was: a master manipulator, an abusive partner, a childhood sweetheart dream turned nightmare. Later on Jensen will describe it like an addiction. He had to have more, had to be good enough, had to twist himself into whatever shape Liam wanted for a scrap of approval and for some spark of attention. For someone to tell him he was good enough.

“Feel left,” Jensen said, his voice firm, caked in bitterness. “Feel old.”

 

At one, Jared manages to keep down a bowl of soup.

Linda arrives and checks Jared’s blood pressure. High but not dangerous. She elevates Jared’s feet with pillows and within ten minutes Jared looks and feels better. Now is the beginning of bed rest, Linda announces to Hannah and Jensen. It’s only partial bed rest, so Jared can still take a walk around the house, but his motion is to be very limited. The more he lies down in one place the better he’ll feel. It’s important to keep his legs propped up and to keep drinking water. He should also eat more and more often. When Linda leaves so does Jensen. He’s on a food run for a Big Mac, Chinese food, and watermelon.

 

It might seem one-sided to a lot of people.

But she sees them after Jared has eaten again and napped a little more.

“Punzel, I wanna cry.”

“So cry.”

“I’m not sad.”

“That’s good.”

“But I still wanna cry.”

“You can cry, Jared.”

For ten minutes, Jared cries into Jensen’s chest.

At the end of it, before they separate, Jensen kisses Jared’s forehead, pulling out another handkerchief. Jensen says something to Jared that makes Hannah beam for the rest of the day.

“I’m not sad either.”


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen has a good day at work and comes home only to be kicked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> extra long chapter for you! <3 
> 
> thank you so much for reading, i really appreciate everyone reading this. :D 
> 
> the * is to make sure i give credit to my source for miniature trees: "the japanese art of miniature trees and landscapes" by yuji yoshimura. i also have to give lots of credit to the book "when you're expecting twins, triplets, and quads" by luke and eberlein. 
> 
> so happy to write the next chapter! XD

The mice have been busy.

Jensen’s hours for next week have been cut quite drastically and the mice are pondering several reasons why. Some of the rumors are so far-fetched Jensen is tempted to give them points for creativity. One of the best is that Jensen plans to take out Antonio; all the time off is so he can plot his dirty work.

What the mice don’t know—and Jensen’s not saying anything to anyone except Rhonda—is that he’s gradually been requesting fewer hours for the past two weeks. This will make transitioning to paternity leave a lot easier from what the books say. He talked it over with Hannah and one of the things she mentioned about her pregnancies was the lack of support towards the end of them from her ex-husband. Judging by how difficult the past few days have been for Jared it’s probably best he’s around more often. After his shift today he has to stop over at HR with the final paperwork. Since he’s not Jared’s legal spouse, he’s had to provide a few extra forms proving that they are in a domestic relationship. Before Doctor Linda left yesterday she signed all his forms without any issue.

Paternity leave in California is a little tricky but Marge from HR has been helpful. She explained to him that Disney allows him to use his paid time off, which includes holidays, vacation, and a portion of his sick pay. He's saved enough time off to hold out for four or five weeks without too much of an issue or dip in weekly pay. This kind of leave wasn’t available to Jared since he hadn’t worked there long enough to qualify. He could have applied through the state to receive more benefits than the vouchers he had gotten a few months ago but the adoption costs will cover him. Plus, he’s got Jensen.

In any case, Jensen doesn’t mind Antonio. He’s a Latino guy in his mid-thirties with a cheerful demeanor. Still, Antonio is notorious for being a hard ass about work. He climbed his way through the ranks by starting as an overnight cast member working in Mickey’s Toontown. Every night, after midnight, he would paint Mickey’s, trying to reverse the daily wear and tear of thousands of children passing through and climbing the attraction. Mickey’s is tough work during the day; Jensen can’t imagine working overnights on it. From there, Antonio was quickly promoted to assistant park decorator also on the overnight shift. His job was to focus on a specific portion of the park—his favorite was Indiana Jones—and repair damage caused by vandalism or replace stolen scenery. To this day Antonio always carries around epoxy glue and screws just in case.

Working overnights was a good gig, Antonio explains to Jensen as they tread out onto Storybook, until he met his girlfriend, who is now his wife. It was either try out for management or apply to Disney’s Imagineers team. From there he did a variety of odd jobs for the park and company, including recently being the park’s lead floral designer. He chose park operations before graduation and met Mr. Yamamoto two years ago. They often worked together on larger projects for the park.

“He told me about you,” Antonio says as they put on their belts in the English village. Today they’re working on the Alice in Wonderland section. “Says you got talent. Old man said the same thing about me when I first met him so I figure he can’t be wrong.” Antonio laughs and hands Jensen a pair of clippers. “Let’s see how you do.”

Antonio used to visit Storybook before his promotion in floral. He tells Jensen that he noticed Jensen a few times and appreciated his concentration. “A man who works while constantly talking gets no work done at all,” Antonio murmurs before they settle into an easy silence.

At noon, before break, Antonio pulls Jensen aside and comments on his work. Some of his form is still crude and inelegant. “*The tree should be judged as a whole,” he points out, kneeling down with Jensen to compare a tree he trimmed and one Jensen did. “We must look for the healthy color of the leaves, the pattern of its trunk and branches, the spread of the roots, and the moss growing around them. These are healthy trees with rich, dark leaves and are free from disease. See how close-packed the soil is?”

Their gloves are taken off and Antonio has them both placing their hands on the soil. “Well-tended soil will be free from weeds. It will aid the trees you trim to grow properly. While you are trimming in all the correct places, a few of your branches are overly long. These are unsightly and out of proportion. When we return, I will show you exactly how I would like these trimmed.”

This is considerably more one-on-one time doing maintenance than Jensen has ever been given. He wolfs down a chili dog and cheese fries for lunch. His phone is at home, since Jared said he would try to fix it, so Jensen wanders around the park for the last ten minutes of his break. Before he left this morning Jared was still sleeping. Last night was a lot better sleep and throw up-wise for Jared. They started a system in the afternoon when Jensen returned from his food run. He stopped at the corner store and bought ten twenty-four ounce reusable water bottles—five for Jared, five for himself. Jared needs to drink eight sixteen ounce glasses of water a day. The larger containers make it seem less daunting of a task but Jensen read to Jared from his audio book about the advantages of keeping hydrated. With enough water Jared can help avoid bloating, additional body heat, constipation, headaches, and going into premature labor. Trying to be helpful, Jensen added that Jared can always add slices of lemons or oranges into the bottles. Jensen also pointed out that he’d be doing the same thing; half the bottles are his.

“I want to see you running to the bathroom every fifteen minutes,” Jared grumbled as he grabbed a bottle from the fridge the night before.

Jensen is on bottle number two when he returns from break.

Afternoon lessons include branch trimming and the styles of trees they use throughout the attraction. Antonio is patient and encourages Jensen to take notes in a pocket-sized notebook. He jots down literati style, broom style, and split-trunk style as Antonio shows him variations of each one. For the last hour of work Jensen is scheduled to do tours. He shakes Antonio’s hand and is told that Mr. Yamamoto was not wrong after all. It’s the best day at work Jensen has had in a long time.

At four, Jensen says goodbye to Rhonda and heads over to HR, forms in his back pocket. He passes Jerry on the way but neither of them say anything or stop walking. Jerry looks upset but then again that could just be his face.

True to her word, Marge has taken care of everything for Jensen and congratulates him. His paternity leave will start in two weeks, but next week he’s only on for three days. The leave specialist will contact him if she has any questions for him or if he has any for her. It’s four thirty by the time he’s in his car and ten to five when he’s walking in the door of his house.

In the living room, with the coffee table cleared out of the way, Jared and Hannah are sitting on yoga mats. Cross legged, with arms raised, they’re both following the instructions of a meditation CD, telling them to breathe in and breathe out. Jared is dressed in an undershirt and sweats while Hannah has her yoga outfit on. Jensen knocks on the wall to the kitchen to announce his arrival.

“Jen,” Jared says with a sigh and holds out his arms. Jensen walks over and leans down. It must be a good day for Jensen to receive a welcome home kiss. “We’re meditating,” Jared murmurs, his lips still near Jensen’s.

“That was supposed to clear your mind,” Hannah laughs and rolls up her mat. “Not fill it with ideas.”

Jared reaches forward and grabs Jensen’s face, squishing his cheeks. “Have you seen this face?” he says with a grin and shakes Jensen’s face. “Have you seen this adorable face?”

“I’m not adorable,” Jensen grits out. “Take that back.”

“Nope, got your face!”

“Let go.”

“Widdle Jensen’s widdle adorable face!”

It takes a full minute for Jensen to pry himself away from Jared’s death grip. Hannah helpfully informs him that Jared received good news today: Misha wants to wait for Jared to design the nursery. This brings up a question about their living situation in the coming weeks but Jensen is distracted from the subject when Jared needs help getting to the bathroom.

In the bathroom, he helps Jared wriggle out of his pants and down onto the seat. He sits next to Jared on the edge of the bathtub while Jared pees and tells him about his day. Maybe this is something weird to be doing but Jensen doesn’t feel that way. He’s gotten plenty used to Jared peeing by now.

“I wrote a letter to a friend back in Texas and then Hannah left for work so I watched a few movies. Then I watched the cooking channel—big mistake—and I ordered a pizza.”

“You finish it?”

Jared gives him a look that speaks for itself: of course he did. “I napped a lot. I got to watch Unsolved Mysteries. Jen, do you think aliens exist? I think they do but I don’t think any of them are dumb enough to be recorded by Unsolved Mysteries. When I was sixteen I heard that one of their camera crews was two towns over investigating a case. They were way too official about it than they needed to be from what my friend said. What do you think about lavender? I think it’s pretty and not too overbearing. That’s a word Misha uses to describe colors—overbearing. It makes me think of my mother. So if it’s _not_ overbearing then it’s _not_ like my mother and that’s good, right?”

Jensen does not get one word in and that’s okay. He doesn’t have too many opinions on lavender or aliens anyway. He does help Jared up and helps with his sweats again. Jared washes his hands and pauses, one hand under his belly, face scrunched.

“I can’t tell if this is a contraction or gas,” Jared groans and supports himself against the countertop.

“Maybe you should lie down?”

The situation is resolved when Jared burps. A stop in the kitchen for a bottle of water shows that Jared is on bottle three. They’re about to head to Jensen’s room so he can change into regular clothes when Hannah walks in, dressed in heels and a light blue sundress. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a bun and she looks half her age. “Do I look alright?” she asks and twirls around. Jared claps and assures her that of course she does; he nudges Jensen into saying something.

“Very nice,” Jensen murmurs with a small smile. “Hot date?’

“Yup! So it’s time for you two to leave! Scoot on out! Vamoose! Go on, git!”

Both of them are surprised. “Wait,” Jensen blurts out, “you’re going on a date and you’re kicking us out? How does that make any sense?”

“Can I pee first?” Jared asks.

“You just went,” Jensen says, not thinking that through.

“Excuse me?! Do _you_ have three people rolling around inside you, constricting your airwaves and jumping up and down on your bladder constantly? No! I don’t think so.”

Before their argument can escalate, Hannah steps in. “Woah, okay, let’s take a deep breath.” She places a gentle hand on Jared’s shoulder, which he responds to positively. Closing his eyes, Jared inhales and exhales according to Hannah’s instructions. Jensen also takes a second to relax. He needs to get out of his uniform and shave; the little stubble on his face is starting to bother him. Disney requires their cast members to be clean shaven at all times, so any stubble is irritating. 

As Jared is in the bathroom, Hannah and Jensen stay in the kitchen. She explains that Doctor Linda is coming over to have dinner. There’s marinated chicken and veggies in the fridge and the portable grill set up outside. Linda—not Doctor Linda—will be bringing over a bottle of wine and a movie.

Well, shit.

“So I booked the two of you a night at the Marriott on Orange.”

Oh…

The news of the hotel room has Jared grinning. He packs a carryon suitcase for the two of them while Jensen sticks around the kitchen. Hannah hums while she pulls food out of the fridge. She rolls her eyes at the sight of Jensen hovering. “Jensen, is this what you’re going to be like if Jared has girls?”

“No,” he snips shyly. The thought of Jared having little girls makes his chest squeeze. He can’t think of them as actual people yet. One day, whoever they grow up to be, they’ll be learning how to drive a car or tie a tie. They’ll be doing mundane things like washing the dishes and folding laundry. And boys or girls, Jensen knows—as Hannah does—he’ll be standing by the door trying his best to look intimidating.

“Lord help whomever tries to date Jared’s kids,” his mother says, smiling the way she does whenever the babies slip into conversation. “I’m not sure who would be scarier—you or Jared.”

“Me,” Jared answers, wheeling the suitcase into the kitchen. “But I guess Jen can give me a run for my money with that scowl. We’re all packed! You’ll be okay, right? Do you need a lecture on safe sex, Hannah? Let me tell you—condoms breaking, not a good thing.”

“Or the best thing,” Hannah laughs. “But no, I think I’m okay in that department, thank you. Now shoo.” As she is literally pushing them out the door, she mentions to Jensen that sometimes, taking a risk on something new pays off. She also reminds him that she had a life before she had kids and was married to her first husband and Jensen’s father.

“One day you two will be saying that,” she says wistfully, before shutting the door.

Jared and Jensen look at each other.

 

A dimpled smile appears and a hand is offered. Jensen takes it.

“That’s never happening to us,” Jared tells him with confidence. “Nope. Never.” 


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hotel bed is tested for durability; an important detail is talked about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sex! lots of it! 
> 
> sleepy. i crash now. enjoy extra long chapter. <3
> 
> The poem here is "saying your names" by Siken.
> 
> leave me comments because they light up my day. <333

“Tell us something pretty.”

 “Hmm. It’s probably not age appropriate.”

“That’s okay,” Jared whispers, their foreheads touching. “We like the sound of your voice.”

 

This is a poem he’s been saving. He’s glad he did because he notices the hesitation in Jared’s eyes as they undress. At twenty-nine weeks Jared isn’t done growing and the stretch marks on his belly are more noticeable as his body continues to adjust. And, since he’s started lactating, his chest has changed; Jared’s nipples are larger and a slightly darker shade of pink, like they’re always flushed. Jensen brushes his thumb over one and Jared immediately quivers, breathing hard and begging Jensen softly to refrain from touching there too much. He listens even though he’s intrigued by this new ability of Jared’s body. He wonders what this all must feel like.

The kiss he gives Jared is firm. His tongue is voracious; he tastes and licks and sighs, tilting Jared’s head back for a deeper angle. A few times their teeth clink together and their noses bump but every kiss is returned. They sit up on the edge of the bed unclothed, kissing until Jensen reaches under Jared’s belly to wrap his hand around Jared’s cock. At the contact, Jared’s breath hitches like he’s aroused but worried. Jensen figures out the reason in a few seconds—Jared’s cock is larger than usual, thicker and heavier.

“It… I…” Jared fumbles for the right words, blushing and avoiding eye contact.

“Can I blow you?” Jensen asks, murmuring into the shell of Jared’s ear. “Please?”

A shaky, tentative nod is given.

On his knees, on the scratchy standard hotel carpet, Jensen spreads Jared’s long legs open and leans forward. He feels his mouth water when he sees Jared’s cock twitch. Long fingers thread through his hair as he seals his lips around the bloated head, sucking at the crown. Jared moans and pushes his hips forward, seeking out the back of Jensen’s throat. It takes him a little longer than when Jared does this, but Jensen manages to open his mouth and relax his throat.

He doesn’t like to bottom—doesn’t find it pleasuring or comfortable—but he doesn’t like to always top either. This is a good way for Jared to feel what he feels when they’re fucking. Jared isn’t shy. He whines when Jensen pops off for a breath and pushes himself back in the second Jensen’s mouth is ready. The extra growth means Jensen’s mouth is stuffed. His eyes water when Jared pushes himself over the edge of the bed, belly pushed out and forward. Deep-seated, Jared’s cock is directly down Jensen’s throat.

“Hah…” Jared’s voice drops low. Sensitive and swollen, Jared leaks come steadily, causing Jensen to swallow when he can and when he can’t it builds up until it’s dribbling down his chin. It’s messy and wet and perfect. Jared hiccups and grips onto the edge of the bed, rocking back and forth, the large mound of his belly bouncing when Jared starts to fuck Jensen’s mouth with purpose. Head tossed back, Jared whimpers. The muscles in his thighs tremble and his toes curl. He drives his cock into Jensen’s mouth until Jensen starts to choke. This has Jared pull back for a moment to give Jensen a chance to breathe, but he reaches down and presses his hand against Jensen’s cheek, feeling the weight of himself as Jensen bobs his head.

“Oh, _oh_ ,” Jared breathes, his eyes rolling back.

Jensen pops off two minutes later. His mouth is red and his lips are slick with spit and pre-come. He kneels back so Jared can see him lick it off and takes a minute to admire Jared completely relaxed and aroused in front of him. The long, rosy curve of his cock presses against the swell of his belly, which leads up to peaked pink nipples that have begun to leak. Jensen looks up at Jared for permission that’s granted with a trusting nod. He pushes up on his knees and sits back on the edge of the bed with Jared, pressing them close. With his left hand he pumps Jared’s cock and with his right he rubs Jared’s lower back.

Cautiously, he presses his lips against Jared’s left nipple.

“Ah,” Jared gasps and flinches.

A second later a signal is given to continue. Jensen opens his mouth and curls his tongue around the sensitive peak, pushing at and on it. Fuck. He has to pause from rubbing Jared’s back to grasp his own cock to keep from coming.

“Really?” Jared whispers, his voice slightly watery.

“Uh huh.”

“I feel really good,” is said in a small voice. “Jen… that feels really good.”

Responding with words is not really an option for Jensen at the moment. He presses the broad part of his tongue against Jared’s nipple and seals his lips around the whole of it, sucking slowly and gently at first. A squirt of milk surprises him. He pulls with faint pressure and the squirt strengthens. It tastes like French toast and almond milk from the grocery store. It’s actually warm, too, and leaves a sweetish aftertaste. Although it has almost the same look as come, the taste is much better, less bitter.

“I’m gonna…” Jensen snaps back from his curiosity to find Jared going wild, tossing his head back, shoving his hips forward, his cock swelling. “Jen! Harder!”

He’s not sure if that command is for his hand or mouth so Jensen does both. His hand gets tighter so Jared can fuck into it and he applies more pressure with his lips, pulling at the nipple while sucking. Jared comes so hard that they nearly fall off the bed. There’s a lot of come and Jared’s nipples leak more. Jensen cleans him quickly, switching back and forth from Jared’s cock and chest, lapping up every drop, even what has gotten on Jared’s belly.

Hazel eyes are hooded and dark. Jensen awaits instructions.

“I can’t make up my mind,” Jared confesses. “I want to ride you but I also want you behind me but I also want your mouth on me while you fuck me…” He gives a whine at the mention of his options, brow furrowing from the conflict. Jensen laughs lowly, his throat scratchy, and he excuses himself for a moment. Despite the discomfort and the heated, tingly sensation in his balls from wanting to come, Jensen digs the cock ring out of their bag and slips it on. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a second before finding the rest of the supplies. His cock bobs as he walks back to the bed; Jared’s eyes are transfixed on it.

With a smirk, Jensen lays down on the bed. He passes a condom and the bottle of their favorite lube to Jared. He hopes they don’t have neighbors in this hotel room. The king-size bed affords them more space than Jensen’s queen at home. As the condom is being rolled on with expert and eager fingers, Jensen closes his eyes.

“The waters of the dead, a clear road, every lover in the form of stars, the road blocked.” His voice is tremulous and it cracks a few times. After the first line he helps Jared onto the bed, holding his hands as Jared swings one leg over his hips and grinds their cocks together. Jensen’s cock pushes up twice to rub against Jared’s belly; they both react to this with a gasp.

“All night,” Jensen moans, “I stretched my arms across him, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singing with all my skin and bone _Please keep him safe. Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed to pieces_.”

Jared lifts his hips up, belly pushed out, and he sinks himself down onto Jensen’s cock. His hole is well-lubed but without prep it’s a tight fit. Jensen feels the breath knocked out of him as Jared forces his hips down. He’s trusting Jared to know when it’s too much. He reaches out and holds Jared’s belly as they begin to move. Jared settles his weight on Jensen little by little.

Balls pressed against Jared’s ass, Jensen knows that without the ring he would have come already. Jared is hot and velvety soft inside. Jensen’s cock is buried and surrounded by pulsating, clenching pressure. Something about Kegels is mentioned but Jensen doesn’t quite catch it. His eyes roll back and he pushes his hips forward, angling high. He feels every breath Jared takes and the bump of his cock head against Jared’s prostate.

“Jen,” Jared pleads, the bed creaking with their movement. “Jen.”

“Makes… uhn… makes a cathedral,” he continues, gritting out a few of the words when Jared starts to bounce, placing one of his hands over Jensen’s on his belly. “Him pressing against me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe his mouth… oh fuck… his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars.”

“Kiss me?” Jared asks. Jensen wants to tell him he never has to ask. He has to remember that for later.

They try to meet each other halfway but Jared’s belly is too big to do that without one of them putting pressure on it. Jensen smiles and quietly asks to switch positions. This is a good position for Jared to be in control but it also requires Jared to do most of the work and he’s already out of breath—though he’s trying to hide it from Jensen.

He’s quick to change their position for two reasons—so Jared doesn’t think he’s copping out and because he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to have the ring on. Walking oddly because of his erection, Jensen gets the wedge from the couch in the seating area, plus the body pillow. He places the wedge in the center of the bed and folds the body pillow on the narrowest part. Jared pulls him onto the bed and kisses him appreciatively. They separate but maintain their mouths pressed closed, breathing and sighing into each other. Jared bumps their noses and turns over, onto his knees, and settles onto the wedge. He holds onto the wide, angled side of the wedge, with his belly nestled on the body pillow. He keeps himself on his knees the entire time so he doesn’t put any weight on his belly. It’s important that Jensen doesn’t thrust too hard and put his weight on Jared from this angle either, but it also means Jared will be able to relax and let him do most of the work.

“Yeah,” Jared sighs as Jensen presses in. “Oh… oh!” This is the most vocal Jared’s been. Jensen’s not sure if it’s from going without for a few days or because they’re in a hotel room with privacy. Either way, he is also louder, encouraged by Jared and the way he looks—ass round and pert and offered to him. Jensen runs a hand over and under Jared’s belly, then wraps it over Jared’s cock. He adjusts the angle of his thrusts so that he hits Jared’s prostate on every other stroke. Somehow, he manages to blurt words out as he lifts his hips up and mounts Jared from behind, his cock pounding in all the way to the hilt.

The sound his balls make as they slap against Jared’s hips is addictive. One hand reaches up and squeezes Jared’s right nipple. The squirt of milk from that action causes Jensen’s eyes to roll back.

“Names like pain cries, names like tombstones, names forgotten and reinvented, names forbidden or overused. Your name like a song I sing to myself, your name like a box… a box… Jared… fuck… a box where I keep my love, your name like a nest in the tree of love, your name like a boat in the sea of love—O now…” Jared clenches his inner walls and applies pressure all over Jensen’s cock. The squelch of lube and the sound of the bed springs are loud in their suite. Jensen leans over carefully. He arches his back and holds himself up like he’s doing pushups to avoid putting weight on Jared’s belly. Jared’s hole is puffy, which Jensen is concerned about. He voices this concern but Jared shakes his head, moaning desperately, urging Jensen to thrust faster and harder.

Working together, they sweat. Jensen fucks the sweetest noises out of Jared.

Jared is tossing his hair over his shoulder, gripping onto the wedge or the bed, pushing his ass back to meet Jensen’s hips, fucking himself with as much force as Jensen is fucking him. The closer Jared gets to orgasm the louder and closer together his screams are.

“Your name with two X’s to mark the spots,” Jensen growls into Jared’s ear, biting down, licking, sucking on the tender lobe, “to hold the place, to keep the treasure from becoming ever lost.” His wrist flicks the head of Jared’s wet, leaking cock. His fingers roll Jared’s nipple and tease out a squirt of milk that he licks from his fingers. His cock pounds onto Jared’s prostate with one, two, three, four, five firm and deep thrusts.

“Jensen!”

Jared comes twice in a row, his arms reached forward and his ass pushing back. He comes so hard on and around Jensen’s cock that they both completely lose it. Jensen has the sense left to pop the ring off but that’s the extent of his brain power. Everything else is replaced by instinctive, primal need. Turned on by the fertility of his partner, by the large, round proof of it, Jensen doesn’t hold back.

“Oh my god,” Jared mutters, shaking all over. “Jen…”

They remain in this somewhat awkward position for a few minutes. Jensen softens and pulls out. The condom is trashed but it didn’t break. He always buys quality condoms and lube. He ties it off and pitches it into the trashcan he moved near the bed before they started.

He helps Jared roll onto his left side. There’s a mess everywhere and they haven’t been in the room for more than two hours. Jared jokes that sex is much better exercise than yoga—the babies are asleep and not teetering around on his internal organs. He feels the occasional kick but no one is using his ribs as xylophones at the moment.

A minute later the phone in their room rings. Jared reaches over and picks it up.

“That couldn’t possibly have been us, I’m nine months pregnant. They must be mistaken,” Jared says into the phone and hangs up. Jensen looks to him for an explanation and is pulled in for a light, feathery kiss. Jared’s eyes are happy and bright, the way they’re meant to be always. “Complaint from the room next door. Good job.”

Jensen snorts and covers Jared’s face with kisses. “You liar, you’re not nine months pregnant.”

“Yeah well, that also wasn’t us just now having crazy-loud sex.”

“Hey.”

“Yes?”

Chest to back, they lay on the bed, ignoring the mess for the moment. Jensen keeps his tone a little more serious. “What’s going on with Misha and Jeff?”

“What do you mean?” Jared clasps a hand over Jensen’s and brings them to his belly.

“Like, obviously you’re moving in with them. So… uhm…” He does not want to sound like a little kid and ask—what about me? Luckily, he doesn’t have to. Jared lifts his hand and presses kisses on his knuckles, then settles their hands back on his belly.

Jared takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “There’s a few options, Punzel. If you don’t wanna live with us right away—three newborns and some newbie parents is gonna be overwhelming—you can… well, you can rent an apartment near us? It’s an hour from work but there are some nice places in Santa Monica that aren’t too expensive.” There really aren’t any apartments like that anywhere close to the community Misha and Jeff live in, but Jensen keeps quiet. “I wanna have the babies at Doctor Linda’s hospital. They’re the most qualified and have the most experience with multiples. Plus, everyone knows us already.”

That part is true; changing hospitals this late into his pregnancy would be stressful for everyone. But there’s so much to do still and prepare for—not to mention everything after—that Jensen isn’t quite sure about his place in everything.

“Misha thinks I could try having all the babies naturally,” Jared murmurs, sleep in his voice.

“You wanna?”

“Just thinking about it makes me tired,” he replies honestly. “Giving birth naturally to triplets puts a lot of strain on my heart and theirs. I probably couldn’t do it at thirty-two weeks, they’d be too small for that. And do you know what a natural birth means? No epidural, no pain meds, nothing.” Jared sighs and rubs his temples. “I wanna bring them in healthy but I just… can we not talk about this right now?”

Jensen sits up. He carefully flips over onto the other side of the bed so he’s facing Jared, who looks at him with guarded eyes. Their eyes meet.

“I wanna live with you,” Jensen states. “I want three in the morning bottles and diapers and getting puked on by someone that isn’t you.”

Jared gives a small laugh. “And diaper rash and baby diarrhea…”

“Oh yeah. Bring it on. How bad can they be?”

“Punzel, my poor, ridiculous Punzel,” Jared sighs, fluffing Jensen’s hair. “Once you move in, I’m not letting you leave.”

Misha and Jeff want to build an addition to their house. It would be next to the nursery and they’ve offered the space to Jared _and_ Jensen, if that’s what they both want. There would be some rent to pay, but Jared assures Jensen that whatever it is will be fair. The addition would be on the opposite side of the older couple’s bedroom and offices, giving everyone their privacy. Three guest rooms would still be available, Jared mentions, so if Jensen ever needed his own space he could stay in one of those. The older men want everyone as comfortable and content as possible because they believe that happy adults raise happy children. In order for this all to work everyone needs to be honest about what they can and can’t do. Jensen isn’t completely sure about it would be like to live with Misha and Jeff but he hopes he can figure it out in time.

Jensen helps Jared sit up. He has a craving for more chili dogs. The hotel has a pool they need to take advantage of. There’s a television in their room and Jared brought movies he wants to see. It’s not yet seven and they still have an evening ahead of them. Tomorrow they’ll go out to Santa Monica and spend time with Misha and Jeff.

For now though, Jensen pulls Jared up so they’re both standing, holding hands.

“Together,” Jensen murmurs, his voice sure and confident. He places one hand on Jared’s belly and feels a reassuring kick. “We like the sound of that.”


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They scope out the hotel pool. Jared can't swim but that's not a problem for Jensen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick post so excuse the errors, I'll come back and edit in a bit. <3
> 
> This chapter... I teared up. I don't know why but I did! /sniff/
> 
> These two... /shakes head/
> 
> Comments are loved and appreciated! :D

Swimming comes naturally to Jensen. He’s a California water baby. His first memories are of the small private beach his father used to take him as a kid out in Long Beach. Speaking of his father, Jensen hasn’t heard from him since Christmas and it’s just a few days away from March. There might be postcards in the mail for him soon from his grandparents and biological mother. Hannah hasn’t said a word about his birthday but she’s never missed one.

Strolling alongside the indoor pool to check it out, Jensen notices that it’s heated. The water’s not too warm though, which makes it safe to go in. He walks the entire outer edge. On one end it starts at three feet and on the other it goes to ten. There’s an outdoor pool in addition to this one, which most of the kids and families are at now. Inside it’s only them and an elderly couple. Elevator music plays in the background. Jensen eyes the diving board but looks up when he hears the door to the family washroom open and shut.

Jared is wrapped up in a large beach towel, covering himself up completely. He looks absolutely nervous, even when his eyes settle on Jensen, who moves over to him at once.

“Can’t swim with that on,” Jensen murmurs with a small smile. “Them’s the rules.”

This causes Jared to clench onto the towel a little tighter. “Maybe… maybe I’ll just put my feet in.”

Before they left their room for the pool they both finished off a bottle of water to get it out of the way. They also waited ten minutes so Jared wouldn’t have to go to the bathroom while in the water, and Jensen bought him a yogurt from the front desk mini-mart. These are all instructions from the audio book and Doctor Linda. When Misha took them shopping he offered to buy Jared a maternity swimsuit but Jared declined. Jensen loaned him a pair of his swim trunks—a plain black pair Jared selected out of a few choices because he said black is slimming—which fit around Jared’s hips only. Jensen tied them well so they wouldn’t risk falling off in the water.

In addition to the swim trunks, Jared has on the strapped support band that crisscrosses over his chest and under his belly. It is thankfully waterproof. Fully prepared to go into the water, Jensen just has to coax Jared into it. There are steps in the shallow end, with a bar to hold onto, so Jensen steps in until the water is just under his knees. He holds his arms out for Jared.

“No,” Jared pouts and takes a step back, away from the pool. “I’ll watch you for a minute.”

He’s not out to force Jared into doing something that makes him uncomfortable, so Jensen nods. He does make sure that Jared sits down until he’s ready to try going in, so he brings over a chair and helps Jared into it. “I’m gonna do a few laps,” he says and presses a kiss to Jared’s forehead. “Holler if you need me.”

“Punzel?”

“Yeah?”

Biting his lower lip, Jared looks uncomfortable. “I need to pee.”

 

One trip to the bathroom later with Jared later and Jensen is on the diving board. Jared is watching from his seat, that towel still wrapped around him. Jensen waves and Jared smiles, not waving because that would mean letting go of the towel. Before he dives, Jensen takes a deep breath. He hits the water smooth and keeps his form with less difficulty than he thought he’d have. It’s been a while since he’s gone swimming. The water feels good; rapidly he feels himself loosen and unwind. With each lap he gets faster, until he presses at his old lap time. He wasn’t on the swim team in high school—that was not his thing—but he swam against a few of those guys and gave them a run for their money.

By the tenth lap, he’s completely familiar with this pool. During laps he avoids the shallower end but swims back to it when he’s finished and pulls himself out. A scrub at his face and a few big breaths of air and he is once again near Jared.

The grip on the towel has loosened.

“Did my laps,” Jensen says with a small smile. “Ready to do some with you if you want.”

Jared’s expression is torn between nervous and aroused. Sharp hazel eyes are definitely not focused on Jensen’s face—they trail up and down his body, taking in every detail and every drop of water. Jensen feels himself blush. No one has ever looked at him with such genuine interest as Jared has. When the length of his body is taken in, Jared’s gaze notices that Jensen’s face is also wet, which means his lips are a little flushed and look slightly fuller. Jensen looks away because if he doesn’t, the older couple sitting on lounge chairs on the opposite side will soon be complaining.

“I can’t swim.”

“That’s okay.”

“No,” Jared mutters, the towel firmly closed again. “It’s not. This is something you obviously enjoy.”

“Uh… it is,” Jensen concedes. “So?”

“So you don’t need a bloated whale flailing around in the water with you!” Jared’s tone is harsh and cold, completely unlike him at all. It reminds Jensen of someone but he doesn’t want to think about it more. He’s not entirely sure what to do right now so he stands awkwardly and bites his lip. Hannah is not here to intervene. No one says anything for a long, tense minute.

Just as he’s thinking to slink back into the water and give Jared space, Jared starts to cry.

Without a handkerchief, Jensen grabs the next best thing—another towel. He rubs Jared’s shoulders as Jared continues to cry into both towels, burrowing himself, covering his face. Comforting Jared means Jensen has a little time to clear his own head and remind himself what gets covered in a lot of the father sections of the books he’s been reading. Third trimester hormone levels are the most erratic and intense. Combined with the changes in his body, the tremendous plans in the works for the babies’ futures, and the due date nearing, Jared is under an enormous amount of stress. Keeping him calm and comfortable are the goals from now until he gives birth, but not every moment is perfect.

An apology is given in heaving, sobbing breaths. Jensen kneels in front of Jared. It’s completely okay for Jared to cry but he can’t get himself worked up so much. The babies feel everything he feels—rising blood pressure included.

Jensen takes a risk.

“Your dad can’t swim,” he says to Jared’s towel-covered belly. “But you guys can. Maybe one day we’ll all teach him. ‘Cause I don’t mind giving lessons to students like your dad.” Jensen looks up and meets Jared’s eyes, then continues to whisper, “He’s got the finest ass I’ve ever seen.”

A watery laugh and a playful swat from Jared, plus a snap, “Don’t sexualize me in front of my children!” and the tears have stopped. With a sniffle, Jared lets go of the towels and holds his hands out to Jensen, who takes them and pulls him up. Step by step, left hand on the bar and the other gripping onto Jensen’s left arm, Jared gets into the water. He’s more cautious when his belly meets the water but Jensen assures him that swimming is a Doctor Linda approved activity. Jared is encouraged to take his time; they’ll stay in the shallow end for the whole time. If they can do half an hour of walking around in the water, Jensen promises milkshakes in the diner adjoining the hotel.

This will ease the pressure on Jared’s back, soothe his joints and muscles, and calm the babies.

One more step and Jared will be in the pool. The water laps over his belly. Jared’s hold on Jensen is a death grip but Jensen is okay with that.

 

Jared looks at Jensen, all of his anxiety and worry clear for Jensen to see.

Jensen looks at Jared, all of his concern and tenderness clear for Jared to see.

“Don’t let go,” Jared says shakily, his shoulders trembling. “Please don’t let go.”

That last step is taken.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their stay at the hotel closes and they're on the road to Santa Monica.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tiny chapter but a happy one. :) 
> 
> more later, late for work! XD

In the hotel lobby, as they’re having breakfast, they play The Game.

It's a game suggested for first-time parents and the hotel lobby provides plenty of options.

A little girl with long black pigtails is running up and down the spaces between the tables, occasionally screaming. Jensen looks at Jared and raises his eyebrows. Jared can field this one.

“Ugh, I don’t know,” Jared sighs, rubbing his belly. “Mine are calm.”

“What if they’re not? What if they’re like that? All three of them,” Jensen counters with a smile. He passes over what he didn’t finish on his plate and Jared takes it happily.

Munching on a slice of watermelon, Jared shrugs. “If they’re like that, I’ll blame you. Next.”

Jensen doesn’t miss the importance of that statement. It makes something flutter in his chest every time Jared even alludes to his children being Jensen’s, even though he has no biological tie to them. The little girl run past their table and shrieks in excitement. Jared looks around for her parents, two bites into his bagel from snapping. A toddler two tables away loudly announces—screams—to his exhausted looking parents that he will not eat Cheerios. A flutter of Cheerios rains down on the mother’s head.

“That’s a stern talking to and a time out,” Jared huffs.

“Dude, and if that doesn’t work?”

“What do you mean if it doesn’t work? It _will_ work. These kids,” Jared declares, patting his belly, “are going to be little angels.”

Dad gets a shower of Cheerios as the toddler is pried away, crying, from the table and presumably taken back to the room. Jensen cringes as the toddler begins flailing. Tiny Keds sneakers look dangerous. Wisely, Jensen decides not to argue. They finish breakfast and walk back to their room, where Jared undresses to take a shower. There’s an hour left before they have to check-out and be on their way to Santa Monica, where Misha is expecting them for lunch.

“I’ll pack up,” Jensen calls out when he hears the shower start.

“Nope,” Jared chirps, standing in the doorway, naked. Hazel eyes are bright and he’s doing that glowing thing again. He holds a hand out to Jensen. “Come here. I’m gonna blow you in the shower.”

Once again, Jensen does not argue.

 

There isn’t always time to stop on the side of the road or wait for an exit off the freeway, and when the babies press on Jared’s bladder they are insistent about it.

“This is so gross,” Jared groans in the car.

“Just don’t spill.”

“Oops…”

“Jared!”

“Kidding, just kidding! Jeez, your precious car is just fine.”

Jensen scrunches his nose. There’s the sound of one of the water bottle containers shutting and its soft thud on the foot well. He couldn’t get over from the left to pull over on the right, and there wasn’t a stop in sight, so one of the water bottles was sacrificed as a last minute bathroom option. It was either that or have Jared pee all over himself. This seemed like a better option. 

Jared looks over with a ridiculous dimpled smile. “You think I can wash that out when we get back? Seems like a waste to throw it out…”

The car swerves slightly at the suggestion.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the day is spent out on the beach in Santa Monica. Jensen proves to everyone that he can speak more than two sentences together at one time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay! i tried to keep jensen's speech as naturally flowing as possible. that means it's a little meandering but i think that's what happens when you toss out ideas and speak freely. hopefully that shines through here. <3 also, everything he's thinking is being said out loud.
> 
> this chapter took forever to formulate. i'm happy with how the issues addressed turned out. :D this chapter also reinforces one of the themes in this fic: you don't have to be related by blood to be a family. 
> 
> thank you for reading! <3
> 
> oh, the song snippet from here is from "the way you love me" by faith hill. of course jared would know a faith hill song. XD

Santa Monica beaches are beautiful.

But Jensen might be biased in this opinion.

The stretches of sand here are clean and inviting. When Jared’s on it, toes deep in the sand, his eyes turn crystal blue and a rosiness blooms on his face from his cheeks to the tip of his nose. His hair gets wavier and messy, swept up by the coastal wind, and Jensen realizes that it’s not the beach that he’s looking at.

 

It’s a testament to how Texan Jared is the way he adapts so easily to being outside. Even though he’s on perched on the lounge chair, propped up with pillows and towels, the enthusiasm he radiates is infectious. From his spot he directs Misha and Jensen in the construction of two sand castles on either side of him. While they’re molding towers to Jared’s specifications, Misha details the construction that’s going on at the house. Walls are being knocked down and two guest rooms are being combined to make one large bedroom. That takes the number of guest rooms down from five to three, but Misha doesn’t show any sign of resentment or trouble. In fact, he looks as happy and relaxed as Jared does, looking over at Jeff from time to time, the look in his eyes as fond as ever.

“We’ve always had the space,” Misha says to them both when Jeff has gotten up to get drinks, “but now we have the best reason for it.”

 

Over pineapple-mango juice smoothies and lunch, which includes all the spinach Jared can eat, a few things are brought up. Jensen lays down on the towel provided to him and takes advantage of his good mood. Hannah is always saying he should talk more. “You get too bogged down in your own thoughts,” she has told him on more than one occasion. So he tries. He speaks more than he has to anyone—except for Jared—in a long time.

There was a time when he would talk forever, trying his best to find the right words, trying to grasp at anything that might help. And it was never good enough; they were never the right words. It took him a long time to come to terms with the fact that there was nothing wrong with his words; it was the person he was speaking them to.

Sun soaked and breathing in salty air, Jensen is laying down on Jared’s right, with Misha next to him and Jeff at everyone’s feet. The sound of the waves pushes him to talk a little louder than he’s comfortable with but if he’s going this far he might as well go all the way.

He starts off saying how grateful he is for everything Misha and Jeff have done for them. There must be no mistake about his gratitude—he knows they have Jared’s—and he thanks them. This is a private beach that is owned by an exclusive club afforded to those with very certain privileges. It still makes Jensen uncomfortable to be waited on or to eat a meal the price of which he could buy three regular meals back home. But those are his issues and he’ll work through them. The money to be here didn’t come from nowhere; he would have liked to have seen Misha at the start of his business, hustling and hauling ass to every single meeting he could get with potential investors. He would like to know more about what they do at work and the things they like doing in their spare time.

Everyone listens. Everyone pays attention.

Taking a deep breath, Jensen goes on to admit his apprehensions about moving in. He’s never lived with anyone outside of Hannah, and now Jared, and he confesses that he feels like he barely knows Misha and Jeff. What’s it going to be like getting to know them _and_ being parents together? How is that all going to work? Does Jensen’s opinion matter at all in any of this—he doesn’t have any experience with kids beyond work and what if he messes up? How will they balance four parents to three kids? What if one kid wants something and parent A says no but parent C says yes? In just a few weeks it won’t be a game anymore. They will have living, breathing, healthy newborns to take care of and holy shit, is anyone prepared for that? What if a baby starts coughing? Does anyone know what to do? What if they get a fever or a cold or diaper rash?

It feels like the more time the four of them spend together, the less awkward things are and that’s great. But there’s a huge difference between being friends and being parents together. Jensen is also apprehensive about moving into a house and a neighborhood he couldn’t possibly afford on his own. Will his opinion as a parent count less because of that factor? Will his youth and inexperience—and the lack of biological or legal tie to the triplets—all be held against him if he ever disagrees with something?

At the heart of it, he wants the babies to be happy.

He wants them to grow up into adults that are just as amazing and brilliant as their birth parent.

But how does anyone do that? How do you raise kids into being good people? It’s more than just nature and nurture; there’s something underneath that that Jensen doesn’t know just yet.

Five people are moving into a house that before only housed two. Two of these people are either still a teenager or in their early twenties. Jensen has no idea what he wants to do for the rest of his life. He wants to go to school but he doesn’t know for what. He wants Hannah in the kids’ lives because that’s the proof he has.

She is proof that you don’t need to be related by blood in order to call them mom.

That's his proof to know that blood related or not—you would die for that person. If that person were in pain, you would do anything in your power to alleviate it, even if it means taking it on for yourself.

It’s been because of her that Jensen is able to look at Jared now and understand a portion of what that all means. Neither of them is perfect and they both have a lot of growing up to do. They will require patience and guidance from each other and Misha and Jeff. This is who they are. This is who Jensen is.

He laughs when he realizes he’s talked in one giant circle just to come back to Jared.

That’s probably how it should be.

 

In the car ride back to Anaheim, the car smells like sand and sun lotion.

Jared has Jensen pull over halfway through but it isn’t to pee.

 

Pulling Jensen close, Jared hangs on tightly, his cheek pressed against Jensen’s ear.

“Someday,” Jared sings softly, fingers curled into Jensen’s hair, “I’ll find a way to show you, just how lucky I am to know you.”  


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returning home, Jensen shaves. Jared keeps him company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've had the worst case of writer's block! gah. but finally. >_

Despite the exhaustion in his bones, Jensen has to shave.

It is cast member standard that all men must be clean-shaven; only neatly trimmed mustaches are allowed. Jensen looks at himself in the mirror for a moment, holding the razor in his right hand and the can of shaving cream in the other. A mustache wouldn’t suit him. But a beard might. He’s turning twenty-one in a few days and the facial hair might help him actually look his age instead of perpetually sixteen and lost.

Being in the sun for the majority of the day has made his freckles stand out even more. His hair is getting long and should be cut within the week. The start of a sunburn blooms on his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose. The crinkles around his eyes look a little deeper, more pronounced than usual.

He’s just showered, to make shaving go smoother, and there was sand all over him.

Closing his eyes, he feels the shoreline again.

When he opens his eyes, the door swings open and Jared is in the doorway, smiling easily, dimples out. He had the first shower, and is dressed in a robe, but the tips of his hair are still wet and his mouth is red. His eyes are not shy. Jensen returns the smile; he’s shed his towel and he’s glad he did. Jared steps forward and hefts himself onto the sink countertop, determined to do so without any help. His legs swing back and forth from his place as he settles, even if his breathing is a bit hard. Long fingers take the shaving cream can from Jensen and turn on the faucet. It’s all a series of motions that Jensen is familiar with, even if this is new.

The hands that turn the faucet on play to an audience entirely receptive to their touch.

Jensen takes his time shaving. The bathroom smells like suntan lotion. It's warm and still steamy, but the mirror is clear. He starts at the very bottom of his throat and shaves up, tilting his head, his hand steady. Shaving is not new. He's done this so many times before, but not like this. When one strip of skin is free of cream, Jared leans forward, meeting Jensen halfway. The other half is his motion, his response, his reply. He stands still and sighs every time they meet. Jared kisses each portion of shaved skin until there is no cream left and Jensen’s been covered in kisses as sweet as any afternoon in the sun.

A cleansing wash.

A gentle dry.

A hand extended, by whom it doesn’t really matter.

One pulls and the other follows.

Just like the moon and the waves.


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen brings out his guitar to celebrate a good appointment with Doctor Linda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter made me cry! ;-; 
> 
> the song here is "hard to love" by will hoge. his songs remind me so much of these two. listen to it if you get a chance, it's a great one. 
> 
> happy to have written something! boo writers block, yay spare time! 
> 
> thanks for reading and sticking with me and this fic. <3

This week’s appointment goes extremely well. Two out of three of the babies are head down and all of them are at least three pounds. The biggest of the three weighs in at a healthy three pounds there ounces and its siblings are not far behind. Doctor Linda announces that everyone is doing well; she expects Jared to surpass the thirty-two week minimum if he keeps his activity restricted and focuses on bed rest. She’s impressed with the hydration plan they’ve fashioned and encourages them to continue it. Photos of the babies are printed out and Doctor Linda marks them up to point out Baby A, B, and C.

A few minutes of the appointment are taken to talk about Jared’s birth plan. He is still fairly certain he wants to try a natural birth for the first baby, and maybe its sibling that is now also head down. But he’s not sure he wants to attempt all three.

“I have had a few patients carry to thirty-six weeks,” Doctor Linda says, marking up Jared’s chart with the babies’ measurements and weights, plus Jared’s progress, “and about a quarter were able to deliver naturally, without c-sections. We do monitor all the babies during delivery, so we can tell if one is in distress. I will be honest, Jared, delivery of triplets is difficult. Even when parents of triplets are healthy we still mark it as a high-risk pregnancy. It may be a long process and you will lose a lot of blood in a natural delivery. Either way, you will not be able to resume regular activity for at least six weeks after. I’m on board with one triplet being delivered naturally. All of them may be pushing it. The stress is often the hardest on the last triplet and a c-section can prevent that. I just want you to be realistic.”

Going over Jared’s care plan for the next two weeks, Doctor Linda adds that the longer he can carry the babies, the better chance they’ll have of not being in the NICU for more than a day. She tells him a story of a patient she had that successfully did a split-delivery birth like he wants—and the patient and babies left the hospital four days later. Most triplets don’t weigh more than three pounds at birth and need help learning how to eat, but Jared’s babies are already at the three pound mark and have a good shot at getting to four. The more time they have to develop inside Jared, the less help they’ll need from the NICU.

“It’s going to hurt a lot,” Jared sighs as Jensen helps him back into his clothes.

“Yes, it will,” Doctor Linda replies. She places the ultrasound photos into a manila file for them to take home. “And because this is a high risk birth, I can only allow one person into the room with you.”

“I wonder who that might be,” Jared says with a look towards Jensen. “Hey, whatcha doing about four weeks from now?”

“Might be busy,” Jensen quips.

“You will _not_ be too busy for the birth of these future geniuses and artists,” is grumbled out as Jared is helped off the exam table. “Is it gonna be like a horror movie? Will Jen be covered in blood?”

This does not sound like the birth scenes Jensen has seen in movies. Doctor Linda laughs and shakes her head. “I know that Jensen is a very capable young man but the most he’ll be doing is holding your hand and maybe cutting the cords, if he doesn’t pass out before the chance comes up.”

“I’m not gonna pass out,” Jensen insists, trying to defend himself. He knows what’s down there; it isn’t some mystery or surprise to him. “Why would I pass out?”

Jared and Doctor Linda share a secret look between them before assuring Jensen that they’re sure he’ll be just fine. “I’ll have a dad nurse on-call anyway,” Doctor Linda mentions as she opens the door for them. “I’ll see you two Sunday. Hannah has invited me over for dinner with the two of you. I hope that’s okay.”

Jensen would be lying if he said it was completely okay with him, but Hannah has been smiling and singing to herself around the house this entire week. He knows Doctor Linda has something to do with that. Jared chimes in that he might try to bake something and that Jensen works until four that day. It’s Thursday now and Jensen worked a small four hour shift before getting back home and spending some time with Jared before this appointment. Tomorrow he has a six hour shift and he’s off Saturday. Sunday is his birthday but he got scheduled anyway. When he made a comment to Jerry about it, Jerry just shrugged him off. He could switch but Rhonda is already working and finding anyone to take a Sunday shift is nearly impossible.

“We’ll see you then,” Jensen says with a small smile and a nod. Doctor Linda looks relieved. He forgets that this must be awkward and new to her as well. She gives them each a hug before they leave. It's a genuine gesture and Jensen appreciates it.

 

On the drive back home, Jensen stops for tacos. He parks the car and goes inside to order, waiting around until they’re bagged and ready. Jared kisses him in thanks and they arrive home ten minutes later. Jensen has getting Jared settled onto the couch down to a science. With a pillow under his back and his legs propped up, Jared eats and watches a soap opera he is definitely not addicted to—yeah, right—while Jensen does a load of laundry. He tosses their clothes in the wash and goes to his room right after, where he picks up his guitar.

“Really?” Jared asks, his eyes lighting up when he sees Jensen tuning the guitar and walking down the hallway back to the living room. Jensen looks up and nods. It feels good to hold this guitar. He wasn’t sure about it when he bought it, didn’t know if it was _his_ , but he’s glad he chose it.

He hasn’t played regularly in a long time.

This is a good time to start up again. He knows his audience is listening; he knows playing is making a difference.

Standing in the living room, near Jared, he pushes past his innate dislike of the sound of his voice. The chords are simple, rooted in country. The palm of his hand pats the body of the guitar to mimic where a drum beat would be. This is a song he heard on the radio years before; he remembers thinking to himself that he might never have a chance to sing it to anyone again. He remembers wondering if he’d ever want to feel anything towards anyone after what had happened.

After the song he’ll tell Jared about it. For now, he starts singing.

“Everyone’s talkin’ so loud, but nobody knows until you have stared down the barrel of this gun alone.” His voice waivers as he starts, it sounds too loud to his ears. It takes more than one line to get the pitch right. “So I thought about bailing out, but I know that when the deal goes down…”

A look at Jared and his voice steadies. “And it’s hard to love, but it’s easy to hold. You right by me, you’re all that I need. More than diamonds and gold. When it’s hard to love, it’s hard to love. In this damn world of lies, there’s one truth that’s enough.” The guitar in his hands wakes up, just like it did when Jared asked him to play a few weeks ago. He hasn’t touched it since then and a lot has changed. Well, many things have changed except for the smile that Jared gives.

He sways back and forth a touch, the chords and the lyrics coming to him naturally.

“I know you’ll stand beside me when the going gets rough. And it’s hard to love. It gets worse before it turns around so I gotta let you know right now. I gotta let you know right now.” His voice picks up and the words are sung with confidence. He’s singing louder than he’s ever sung before. “It’s hard to love, but it’s easy to hold, you right by me, you’re all I need, more than diamonds and gold.”

One hand on his belly, the other wiping away a few tears, Jared laughs. Jensen finishes the song by sitting on the couch, not one interruption in his strumming or singing. “It’s hard to love. In this damn world of lies there’s one truth that’s enough. I know you’ll stand beside me when the going gets rough. It’s hard to love.” He’s playing hard and fast and he’s closed his eyes without realizing it. “It’s hard to love. It’s hard to love.” The last few chords are strummed and he’s brought back to reality by a kiss pressed to his cheek.

The guitar is set down and Jensen’s hands feel empty for only a second.

“I love you,” Jared breathes, bumping their noses together. He takes Jensen’s hands into his and places them on the sides of his face before kissing Jensen’s knuckles.

Their hands move down.

There are at least a hundred songs that Jensen needs to play to his new audience. He shuts his eyes and leans into Jared, resting his head on Jared’s shoulder while their hands smooth over Jared’s belly. Jared still smells like Santa Monica sun and coastline.

The past tumbles out of Jensen.

It lingers for a while, longer than he wants. For a moment he fears that it might stick around, it might refuse to leave, and that he might have summoned a ghost.

Jared knows exactly what to say. He pulls out a handkerchief of Jensen’s from his own pocket and wipes the tears off Jensen’s face. Their eyes meet. Jensen lets out a breath he’s been holding. Their hands squeeze together and Jared’s belly is held; it’s the warmest and softest part of him.

 

“We love you,” is whispered to Jensen, followed by the tender press of a kiss.

 _Feel left. Feel old_.

Jensen hears the echo. He turns over new lines, ones of his own.

_Feel whole. Feel new._


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared does not feel well; Jensen takes action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay for being able to write!
> 
> hopefully i get a House chapter up today as well. :D
> 
> a more plot-based chapter but still, awwww. <3
> 
> thanks!

Jared wants to go to the craft store.

This is easier wished for than actually done. Friday starts off with Jared throwing up breakfast. The babies are fighting for space just like Doctor Linda said they would be. Three sets of arms, elbows, and feet battle for prime real estate, which involves pressing down on all of Jared’s internal organs and ribs. The triplet on Jared’s left, the only one that’s still breech, is giving Jared an especially rough time.

“What the fuck is it doing in there?!” Jared shouts, crying into a towel, sitting on the toilet. It’s been decided that instead of running to the bathroom and barely making it every ten minutes, that he’ll just camp out here. Jensen thinks that Jared should just risk the runs and lay down with his feet up like Doctor Linda has advised before, but he’s not about to argue with a very pregnant person in a lot of pain. He does need to calm Jared down before too long but the pain and discomfort are very real things right now. 

Trembling, with tears streaking his face, Jared reaches out for Jensen. “Oh god,” Jared moans, his head down, hands on Jensen’s forearms. “Jen, Jen… Jensen!”

“I’m right here. What’s wrong?”

With a snort, Jared grits out, “What’s _wrong_?! Gee, I don’t know, the sky is blue! Oh, fuck!”

Because one sibling is intent on moving, the other two respond in kind, shifting around to accommodate their stubborn roommate. Jensen gingerly places his hand on Jared’s belly, expecting to be snapped at, but Jared barely notices because he has to pee again. Thirty seconds later, as Jared is peeing and crying and gripping onto Jensen, he’s begging Jensen for forgiveness, pleading with him not to leave him alone in the bathroom. It’s ten minutes before Jensen has to leave for work. Jared starts to feel contractions.

“Of course I’ll stay,” Jensen assures him but still reaches for his phone. “Just let me…”

A low, pained sound from Jared changes everything.

He forgets about work and uses his phone to call Doctor Linda.

 

The same doctor who saw Jensen in the ER sees them now.

He is less than pleased to see them but swoops in and has Jared hooked up to a IV drip, oxygen and heart monitor, and an ultrasound machine in no time. Because of his high risk status, every attention is given to Jared while Jensen waits anxiously, watching from the sidelines or holding Jared’s hand when he can squeeze in and not be in the way.

In an hour and a half, Jared has been given a low dose of medicine to help with his nausea and a safe amount of painkillers for his back. Doctor Linda has been paged, but the ER doctor informs them that she’s in the middle of a delivery. When she couldn't be reached at the office, when Jensen first called, he decided to bring Jared into the ER despite Jared's protests. The pain was overwhelming and the contractions couldn't be ignored. Another obstetrician is brought in and takes a look at the ultrasound pictures before leaving to check on Jared’s blood work. One of the nurses encourages Jensen to massage Jared’s belly so he can fall asleep; hopefully the babies will follow suit.

After two minutes of rubbing Jared’s belly clockwise, Jared is out, snoring like a chainsaw again.

The movement under Jensen’s hand has calmed down significantly. He sighs and rests his head on the hospital bed, having pulled up a chair to the edge of it. The troublemaker baby on the left gives one last kick before settling in and being calm like its siblings. Jensen feels the kick in a different spot, though, and he whispers, “What were you doing in there?”

For the next half an hour, amidst the sounds of machines beeping and Jared’s snoring, Jensen keeps one hand on Jared’s belly, fingers tracing light circles, and texts people with the other. He drove Jared here but two blocks from the hospital, Jared threw up all over himself and the door. One text is sent to Hannah asking her to please bring over a change of clothes for Jared. Another text is sent to Misha, informing him that they’re at the hospital now but things have calmed down. They’re waiting on the results and for Doctor Linda to stop by when she’s out of the delivery room. Jeff texts two minutes later and offers to drive them home and take care of Jensen’s car; he’s in the area for business so swinging by isn’t a problem. Jensen texts him to please coordinate with Hannah and that he’d appreciate any and all help.

Lastly, Jensen texts Rhonda. He gets a reply back from her right away, meaning she’s on lunch.

“Jerry is pissed,” she informs him. “No call no show on a Friday… he’s crowing to all the managers and HR.” The mice have reported that he’s going around to everyone complaining about Jensen’s lack of responsibility and Disney attitude. Jensen doesn’t give two shits. He thanks Rhonda for the update and answers back her question about Jared’s condition.

It’s weird to think about his job while Jared is hooked up to hospital machines. They aren’t anything that indicates a life-threatening situation—all the machines are standard observational equipment—but the hospital makes Jensen nervous. They went from a great appointment yesterday to a terrible day today. He wonders what’s changed and worries that maybe Jared didn’t drink enough water yesterday or maybe he slept in the wrong position or maybe…

Lucky for Jensen, his panic attack is set on hold as the resident obstetrician and ER doctor pop in for an update. No one wants to wake up Jared since he needs the rest, so the results of the tests are relayed to Jensen. Copies of the results will be sent over to Doctor Linda’s office and they should follow up with her as soon as possible, by the end of the day if they can. Her delivery upstairs has turned out to take longer than anyone expected, so she won’t be able to come see Jared now in the ER.

“We’ll keep him an hour more, just for observation,” the ER doctor informs him. “But we’ve gone over his ultrasound and blood work and there’s no chance for a premature delivery right now. As long as his contractions aren’t every hour, those are normal. A few contractions a day up until delivery are fine. Swimming and other light exercise can help soothe those but again, they will happen. We don’t feel the need to administer magnesium but I would suggest eating more magnesium rich foods and talk to Linda about maybe adding another supplement.”

“So…” Jensen gets out of his chair to stand up. “What happened today? He was fine yesterday.”

The obstetrician, a young man in his mid-thirties, fields Jensen’s question. “I compared yesterday’s ultrasound with today’s and here, I’ll show you. This will explain it.” Pictures from Jared’s chart are pulled out. “They’ve rotated some, but this little one,” the obstetrician motions with his pen. “The one on his left? It turned. It’s kind of remarkable, really. It didn’t have much room to work with—thus your partner’s incredible discomfort—but it managed.” All three babies are now head down. Jensen holds the ultrasound picture from today. As the weeks go by, the pictures get clearer and more defined. He can see three tiny people.

“We’re glad you brought him in,” the ER doctor chimes in. “It’s always best to be safe. Another hour of observation and you’ll be able to go home. Is someone bringing a change of clothes?”

Tearing his attention away from the ultrasound picture, Jensen looks up at nods. “Yeah, my mom should be here soon.”

“Ah yes, what a shame, I’m off soon. Tell her I said hello.” He goes to check on Jared’s IV and the obstetrician walks over next to Jensen.

“You have every reason to be proud,” he mentions. “I don’t see many triplets in my office and even then, it’s incredibly rare that all three turn down, especially at almost thirty weeks. They should be more comfortable like this, I hope. See this one?” He points on the ultrasound picture to the baby towards the bottom. “They don’t move too much, they like to be on their side. And this one?” He points to the baby on Jared’s right. “They can’t decide which side they like best but they’ve settled for facing their siblings. And of course this one, the determined little one, has so far faced away from their siblings but in their new position, they’ve given everyone a second chance.”

Tiling the picture, Jensen can see that the troublemaker has one arm near its mouth. The baby on the bottom also has a hand near its mouth, while the baby on the right has an arm covering its face. He wonders if this will be any indication of their personalities later on.

“If your partner feels anything else that’s out of sorts, don’t hesitate to come back in,” the ER doctor says and places Jared’s chart at the end of the bed. “I would rather not see either of you here until the big day, but we’ll be here if you need us. You can keep those photos, those are your copies.”

Jensen shakes both doctors’ hands and thanks them multiple times.

He covers Jared up with another blanket, fixes his pillows, and brushes a few strands of hair away from his face while he snores on. When this is all done, Jensen sinks back into his chair, running a hand through his hair. In an hour a couple of nurses will be by with discharge papers and to help Jared out of bed and into a wheelchair. A quick check of his phone informs him that Hannah and Jeff will arrive in half an hour with clothes and reinforcement. Jeff will drive Jensen’s car to a body shop while Hannah will take the three of them home. She and Jeff are there now, getting Jared’s clothes and preparing Jensen’s bed. There will be no trip to the craft store today, but Misha, learning that that’s what Jared had meant to do today, texts Jensen that he’ll be by later tonight and bring with him some of the things Jared wanted to buy.

Breathing comes a little easier to Jensen. He looks over at Jared. Before he can wax poetic, one last text pings through. He expects it to be from Misha but it’s a long one from Rhonda.

Scrolling past the details of the text, Jensen leans forward in his chair.

Jerry’s had him fired.


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home from the hospital, Jensen tries to get Jared to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sleepy... good night! <3

“I’ll punch him.”

“No you won’t.”

“I’ll kick him.”

“Easy there.”

“I’ll sit on him.”

“Okay, Jared.”

“I’ll sit on him after I’ve eaten ten bean burritos. That’s what he deserves.”

“I sleep next to you after you’ve eaten ten bean burritos—I’m clearly still alive.”

“You’ll sleep next to me after I’ve eaten ten bean burritos and you’ll like it. And besides, the point isn’t for _me_ to kill him. Nope. I’m gonna train these babies to be master baby assassins. No one will suspect the babies.”

Just as Jared launches into diabolical— _high_ —laughter, Jensen decides that it’s probably time for a nap. They’ve just gotten home and to Jensen’s room. The painkillers they gave Jared at the hospital weren’t strong, but after not having any painkillers in his system for a while, they seem to have made Jared a little loopy. He apologizes for throwing up in Jensen’s car by offering to have the master baby assassins steal him a new, vomit-free car. “You just have to wait a little while, until they’re finished baking,” Jared says with a pat to his belly. “I want them well-done, Jen. Not rare. I gotta make it to thirty-seven weeks. Hey, can I blow you?”

The thought of his cock anywhere near Jared’s mouth while Jared is high on painkillers and not completely in touch with reality is not a turn on. “Not now. Now you need to sleep.”

“No,” Jared whines and rolls over onto his left side, face planting into a pillow. As Jensen wrangles the sweat pants off of Jared, Jared complains about wanting sex and a cheeseburger. Eventually, he settles for a big glass of milk and half a package of Girl Scout shortbread cookies. For the moment, they’re alone; Hannah dropped them off and is swinging by the body shop to pick up Jeff. Jensen hasn’t told the news about the House of Mouse to anyone but Jared.

“If you could fuck me while I eat a sundae, I’d never ask for anything again.”

Jensen looks over at Jared from the armchair next to the bed. He raises his eyebrows in doubt. “You ask me for shit all the time.”

“Don’t swear!” Jared snaps and his eyes go wide. He covers his belly with both arms. “They’ll hear!”

Rolling his eyes, Jensen sits back in the chair. He needs Jared to go to sleep and rest. They pumped plenty of fluids through the IV in the hospital, so Jared doesn’t need to drink much more for the rest of the day, but the best thing for him to do is rest as much as possible. He has everything he needs—pillows, the wedge, and the whole bed to himself—but he refuses to shut his eyes and stop talking. He goes on about how he could definitely balance a sundae on the bed if Jensen fucks him from the side.

At the mention of combining the sundae with sex, Jensen snaps. “Jared! I’m not fucking you right now! Go to sleep!”

Instead of crying, Jared just laughs, peeking out from his pillow to look over at Jensen, who is not very amused. “Pleeeeease, Jen. Pretty please. Pretty please without a cherry on top, I promise. You don’t have to do anything, I can just blow you. Oh, but can I have more cookies before?”

There isn’t time to sulk about being fired and currently unemployed. He sinks further into the armchair and remains at Jared’s bedside, praying for a miracle. It would be great if Jared would go to sleep so that Jensen could catch a small nap as well. They spent a total of three hours in the ER, and while everyone is grateful that the result was good, it was immensely stressful. Even though Jensen doesn’t have to worry about work, there are still plenty of other things to do; tonight they have another group meeting at the library with Doctor Linda. Someone has to make dinner, finish the last load of laundry, clean the bathroom…

Squinting, Jared stares at Jensen.

“You’re covered in a very fine fuzz.”

For Jared to quote a Simpsons line means that he’s close to passing out but Jensen doesn’t get to witness the event. He passes out first.


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first breastfeeding lesson is less than ideal; Jensen and Jared multitask talking and other activities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for waiting for an update! you get an extra long chapter, smut, AND an original poem. i wrote the poem for this fic, i hope you like it! <3
> 
> time skip up ahead in the next chapter but hang on. :D
> 
> thank you!

 

Tonight’s topic at the group meeting is breastfeeding.

Jensen has never seen so many nipples all at once. The two ladies from the La Leche League instruct all partners to push up their shirts too—and suddenly, there are even more nipples in the room.

Sitting in a circle, each pair listens to Doctor Linda about the health benefits for breast-fed babies. Jared listens intently, holding Jensen’s hand the entire time, with his free hand over his belly. “By breast-feeding your children you are choosing to give them a head start in life. You’re giving them less indigestion and colic, enhanced immunity, and fewer allergies. You significantly lower the risk of SIDS—sudden infant death syndrome.” Doctor Linda looks like she has said this speech a hundred times, but she speaks with enthusiasm and confidence. “It’s a privilege to be your children’s sole source of food. You are essential to their survival. Don’t forget that.”

A glance over at Jared and their eyes meet. Jared smiles shyly and squeezes Jensen’s hand. Nipples or not, it’s a good moment and Jensen slips it away for later. There are going to be three tiny people completely dependent on the four of them in just a few more weeks. And even when they’re walking and talking and driving and dating… Something Hannah said to them a few days ago echoes in Jensen’s mind: being a parent is forever.

“I’ll let my good friends come by and have talks with each of you. Don’t worry, partners, we won’t let you feel left out.” Doctor Linda continues and nods towards Jared. “Jared, Bea will be working with you and Jensen first.”

Bea is an older woman with gray hair; she makes her way over and introduces herself to Jared and Jensen. For fifteen years she has given lectures and demonstrations with La Leche, but her specialty is working with parents of multiples. Doctor Linda called her in special to meet Jared. In the two minutes that they have met, Bea is talking them up like having their nipples out on display is a totally normal thing. She and Jared talk about slow cooker recipes and yarn while she attaches two plastic things and the size of buttons onto Jensen’s chest. Having a total stranger have her hands on two very sensitive parts of him isn’t even the oddest thing about this. As she recites a recipe for chicken cacciatore, she squeezes the plastic nubs.

“Ow, fuck!” Jensen gasps and takes a step back from her, hands flying to his chest. Before Jared can snap at him for swearing, several other partners are having the same reaction.

“That’s what it feels like when the baby first learns how to latch on,” Bea says sweetly. “I’ll show you what it feels like when they start teething.” Jensen does not like his nipples played with period—much less from the hands of Bea. The two times Jared has attempted to touch him there ended the same way: Jensen nudging Jared’s hands away and asking not to be touched there. They’re sensitive, yeah, but that doesn’t mean he gets off from them. Jared, on the other hand, has been known to come lately just from the idea of Jensen touching his. These thoughts are not helping. A seventy year old woman is twisting and turning on his nipples like they’re radio dials. He’s about to snap at her about sadistic behaviors when she—sweetly, always sweetly—chuckles at Jensen’s discomfort and takes out a scary looking miniature fire hydrant. Something is happening. Jensen looks around and meets the frightened glances of a few partners.

“Oh good,” Doctor Linda chimes in from the center of the room. “You brought the breast pumps.”

“Come here darling,” Bea _sweetly_ tells Jensen. “I’m going to show you two how this works.”

Exhaling raggedly, Jensen can’t take his eyes off the pump. “Why not on Jared? He’s the one who…”

“Come here,” is not as sweetly commanded by her once more and Jensen reluctantly obeys. He has to be brave. He will not be intimidated by an old lady with a penchant for causing nipple related pain. Bea takes the pump apart and has Jared put it back together before handing it off to her again. While Jared is doing that she puts to rest Jared’s fears about not producing enough milk; she assures him that the supply of milk keeps up with the demand. Bea does admit that it takes practice and patience, but she trusts that Jared will work out a system that works best for him and the babies. Keeping a chart is suggested; she’ll provide him with one and her business card just in case. After, she holds the pump up to Jensen’s chest and shows them both how to work it, asking them to repeat things she says from time to time. Even though Jensen is trying his best to listen and pay attention, the pump overwhelms him. This entire concept looms over him. They can store and freeze the milk; Jared will need to be pumping and feeding throughout the day, and there will be certain things to look for to make sure each baby is feeding enough.

Sometimes Jensen forgets to eat lunch. How the hell is he supposed to be responsible for three newborns?

“Daddy looks like he needs to sit down,” Bea laughs but doesn’t put the pump away. “C’mon then, it won’t be so bad. You’re here to support your partner, aren’t you?”

By the time they walk out of there, Jensen’s nipples feel like they’re chew toys.

 

 

“Lay down,” Jared commands midday on Saturday.

Jensen isn’t about to argue but he is curious. Hesitantly, he lies down on their bed, on his side which is closest to the door. He watches Jared dig around in a drawer before finding what he’s looking for: a bottle of massage oil.

“Take your shirt off and flip over.” There is nothing harsh about Jared’s tone; it’s just firm and confident instead of its usual goofiness. Jensen kind of likes it. He saves that thought for later and does as he is told. In one swift motion he peels off the undershirt he’d been wearing and rolls over. So far today he has finished the laundry, cleaned the bathroom, and prepped snacks for Jared. He needs to change the oil in his car but that can wait until the afternoon. Hannah is out with Misha, up to no good she said, and for some reason wanted to know Rhonda’s number. Jensen still hasn’t told anyone about work and he texted Rhonda to please not mention anything to his mother. He isn’t really sure how to tell everyone: hey, I was fired from Disneyland, what happens now?

He doesn’t get the chance to think about that any longer because Jared is carefully climbing the bed, pulling himself up with a few grunts and snorts about Jensen’s bed being too high up. The bed creaks a few times but eventually, Jared settles himself, straddling Jensen’s hips, perched on his ass.

“You best have a plan for this,” Jensen grumbles, giving a teasing circular motion of his hips. The hitch in breath from Jared is worth the snap he gets right after.

“Stop that. Uhn. You can blow me after as an apology.”

“Now I’m giving you apology blow jobs?”

“Jensen, they’ve _always_ been apology blow jobs.”

“I didn’t even do anything wrong!”

“Not that you knew of,” Jared sniffs and swats at the back of Jensen’s head. “Now shut up, you’re distracting me.” Jared takes forever to prepare for whatever he’s planning on doing. Little by little he’s easing his weight onto Jensen, even though he should know by now that Jensen doesn’t mind it. With regular meals and snacks throughout the day, Jared has gained a total of sixty pounds in these almost thirty weeks. Jensen has lunch put together in the fridge—just some sandwiches—and they’ll probably eat it outside, sitting on the grass and bumping each other’s shoulders. Today, at breakfast, Jared discovered that if he places a chip on his belly and a baby kicks near it, the chip moves.

“Stop thinking,” is snipped as a cap to something is flicked open. Jensen wonders if it’s lube. What exactly is Jared planning on doing this way? The soft, rounded underside of Jared’s belly rests against the small of Jensen’s back. It’s the part of Jared’s belly that has the darkest stretch marks; the part that Jared doesn’t like Jensen looking at or touching.

“Start putting out,” Jensen mumbles back and closes his eyes. Their bed smells like laundry and come and cinnamon. He has clean sheets to put on the bed whenever he gets around to it this afternoon.

Grunting, Jared pushes himself forward. Jensen feels Jared’s thighs work to maintain balance. Familiar and warm oil-slick hands touch Jensen’s neck. He shudders from the touch instinctively but settles into it. The knots in his neck are worked out one by one. Fingers knead into his skin with gentle precision. His shoulders are next and Jensen groans when a large knot by near his right shoulder blade is smoothed out. Jared knows the differences in the noises Jensen makes; when Jensen shows the smallest sign of discomfort, Jared’s fingers ease up and trace the freckles on his back. A star. A heart. A word. _Please_.

But he’s not sure what the rest of the question is and it’s difficult to think when his upper body has turned into liquid. He sighs. Jared glides his fingers over to the base of Jensen’s spine and measures something like two or three fingers away on each side.

The house is quiet.

Jensen moans in pleasure as the fingers in their respective spots begin to push down. A wire from those pressure points to his cock is ignited. He opens his mouth and lets out a punch of air, reaching out to grab for the headboard. He moves slightly and causes his hips to tilt up. The weight of Jared’s erection grinding against his ass makes Jensen’s mouth water. Fuck.

“Jen?”

“Uh?”

“Do you…” Jared is speaking in a whisper, the kind that makes his voice go lower and his drawl more apparent. “Are you afraid you’re settling by being with me?”

It’s a question that throws Jensen off and makes him tense up for a second but Jared is there to rub his shoulders. Breathing in and out twice before replying, Jensen pushes his hips up. They both gasp and shudder. “Never,” Jensen grits out, grinding his cock into the bed, searching for friction.

Jared pushes down, whimpering softly, his fingertips lightly brushing up Jensen’s back. “You… you could be out… havin’ fun and doin’ stuff people our age do.”

He wants to flip Jared off and shove down their pants and push into him with one deep thrust. He could have Jared over and over again. This, though? Jared starts moving, rubbing his cock and balls over the curve of Jensen’s ass, panting and breathing hard, his belly bumping onto Jensen’s back when he lifts up and down with more force. Fuck. Using his extra weight, Jared has him pinned down, corkscrewing his hips, not just grinding into Jensen, but also pushing Jensen’s cock harder against the bed.

“Pants,” Jensen cries out, biting his hand. “Jared…”

Without a pause, Jared manages to pull Jensen’s track pants down, under his ass. Jared also pulls his own pants down just enough for his cock to rub over Jensen’s ass. Jared’s hips stutter; Jensen knows Jared is taking the moment in. Stretching and twisting like a fine guitar being tuned, Jared starts to move. Jensen knows Jared is tossing his head back, with that pretty mouth of his open and slick.

“I want you here,” Jared confesses, his hands on Jensen’s shoulders, bracing himself, working his hips up and down, over and around Jensen’s ass. “Oh god, Jen, I want you here. I… but I… hold you back… hah… oh, oh, oh, I feel so good.” A hand goes to Jared’s belly and Jensen briefly thinks that something might be wrong but Jared cries out and stops holding his weight back off of Jensen. The pressure created is exquisite.

As his cock drives against the bed, Jensen thinks about what it feels like to stuff his cock into Jared’s mouth, as far back as it can go. He thinks about the times he tilts Jared’s head back, trying to shove further and further into Jared’s open and hungry throat. How the tears that fall from Jared’s hazel eyes when his mouth is stretched and sated mix with the come that leaks out, the spit that dribbles down sloppily. Jensen’s body gives a twitch. Jared touches those spots on his back again. His cock fattens and he can’t help but buck up against Jared, until they’re both humping and grinding frantically, the bed creaking and the headboard giving off _whump whump whump_ noises as it bangs against the wall.

In his head, Jensen pulls his cock out of Jared’s mouth and smacks the tip of it against Jared’s bottom lip. He traces the curve of Jared’s mouth and the outline of his face with the bloated tip. Then in one smooth, practiced motion, he pushes himself back in, all the way in one thrust until his balls are pushing down on Jared’s chin and Jared is choking and begging for more.

“Let me fuck you,” Jensen cries out. “ _Please_.”

“I’m gonna…”

“Ring…”

“Okay…”

Massage entirely forgotten by now, Jared hefts himself off and onto the bed, where he gets on all fours. Jensen grabs supplies faster than he knew he was capable of. Jared whines and spreads himself open, displaying the tight pink hole Jensen sinks into a minute later. They fuck often enough that Jared often doesn’t need prep. Today he’s still loose from the half hour of fingering Jensen did for him last night before bed to help him sleep. He’s thankful for it; he starts moving immediately, balls heavy and slapping against Jared as he fucks into him roughly.

“Ahhhh!” Jared screams and bucks against Jensen. “I wanna come! Jen, Jensen, I wanna come!”

“Not yet,” Jensen growls and pushes forward. He mounts Jared carefully, mindful of the angle and the pressure on Jared’s belly. They don’t have the wedge so they have to work without it. He slides one hand under Jared’s mound and spans his fingers wide. With the other hand he pushes two fingers into Jared’s mouth. Jared starts sucking on them feverishly, crying and pushing back against every thrust Jensen gives. Jensen can’t come as quick as Jared can and he can’t do multiples that often. But he feels this build until the pressure on his spine tingles down to his toes. The muscles in his legs and thighs burn from keeping himself partially elevated. His cock makes squelching sounds every time it pounds into Jared. Underneath him, Jared is wild, screaming and trembling and working hard enough to sweat.

“Jen!” Jared shouts out. “Something feels weird! Something feels… I have to… I have to come!” The ring is popped off by Jared’s impatient hand. Jensen fucks into him as hard as he dares. He feels something different as well. Jared’s inner walls are spasming and clenching from his orgasm. Jensen feels a wet squelch, different from the lube.

For a second, Jensen thinks Jared’s water broke.

“I’m fine, oh please, please don’t stop, I wanna… again…” Jared begs, his shoulders shaking. “Oh yes, yes, right there, Jen. Jen, please. Jensen!” The same feeling happens again, this time with more dampness. “Pull out, Jen. Pull out!” Even though this is the thing he wants to do, Jensen does it immediately. A small gush of clear liquid pours out after his cock and Jared’s hole is gaping and twitching. Jared screams, one hand in his hair and the other gripping onto the sheets.

Jensen takes off the condom.

“C’mere,” is ordered, even though Jared hasn’t caught his breath. He opens his mouth wide and Jensen doesn’t need to be told twice. He fucks Jared’s mouth until he’s the one with tears from over stimulation. Jared rolls onto his left side and strokes Jensen firmly, directing Jensen’s cock at the widest part of his belly. Jensen comes hard. If orgasms were glimpses of heaven, he gets the grand tour.

“Stop, stop,” Jensen wheezes, pushing Jared’s hand off his cock. He can’t do another round right after this time. Jared stops but he reaches out and pulls Jensen down for a sloppy kiss. They tremble and laugh, mouths never more than an inch apart as they rest. Jared plants a kiss on Jensen’s forehead and holds Jensen against his chest. His nipples have leaked but he is also too sensitive to have them touched so soon. “Later,” Jared promises, his voice shot. Long fingers card through Jensen’s hair.

After ten minutes of silence, they both realize how messy the bed is.

“Gross,” Jared sniffs and sits up, surveying the bed. “I need a shower.”

“What about the rest of my massage?”

“Mmm… no, how about you bake me a cake.”

“ _You_ were going to bake _me_ a cake.”

Jared yawns and sits at the edge of the bed, swinging his feet over to the side and on the floor. “Mmm… I’ve never come that hard before.” The cake debate is closed.

The sheets are drenched from where Jared’s hips were. Jared explains that the extra hormones have given him the ability to squirt if he comes hard enough. It won’t last forever but it’s definitely a perk of being pregnant.

Sitting side by side on the bed, Jensen rests his head on Jared’s shoulder.

He decides that now is as good a time as any to give Jared a present; he rests his right hand over Jared’s belly. Jared places his left over Jensen’s hand. This is Jensen’s answer to where he wants to be:

_before the day before him_   
_after the after behind him_   
  
_his fingers freely flex_   
_strings are skin_   
_tuners are lips_   
  
_frets are the pressure points he memorized_   
  
_curved lovely round_   
  
_a body is a body_   
  
_he can play theirs together sweet_   
_no pick_   
_bare_   
  
_the progression of a tune that began as a hum_   
_while he watched bread rise_   
_kneaded needed knotted into a twist the lull the fostering_   
_of chords_   
  
_it's the slap of his palm below the bridge_   
_circulation of a smile_   
_vermilion brilliant persimmon radiant tea rose_   
  
_before his before and after his after_   
_again and again until the next until_   
_in an endless loop he commits he swears he_   
  
_he proposes_   
  
_if the work herein produces the next sensation_   
_a quiver a smile an easy breath, love_   
  
_let him tune_   
_and start the song again_

 

Jensen wrote that for Jared.

He promises it's the first of many.


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen turns twenty one and receives a present he wouldn't have expected just a few months ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda short but fun to write! next chapter is a bit bumpy. hold on. XD enjoy the happiness of this one!
> 
> thank you! <3

Jensen turns twenty-one on a quiet, calm night.

Over a homemade, neon-blue and green cake that is a little lopsided, and four celebratory shots of high-end tequila, Jensen looks around and realizes that while all might not be perfect, it’s pretty damn good.

He has never been one for accepting presents. He’s not entirely sure what to do with the gift cards, cash, and clothes he receives. It just seems like too much. Over the years it’s always been him and Hannah celebrating their birthdays quietly, exchanging chores around the house and movie tickets. It’s incredible to Jensen now, that in such a short amount of time, their party of two has grown to seven with Jared, Jeff, Misha, Linda, and Rhonda in attendance. And their family isn’t even done. Tomorrow will be thirty weeks.

Where is he going to be in five years? When he’s twenty-six, how’s he going to be celebrating his birthday? Will he have the same people around him? Holding the card he’s just received from Hannah, Jensen hits a small patch of broodiness. Jared pulls him right out of it, grabbing Jensen’s hand and handing over a plain manila folder with a black ballpoint pen.

“Make it official, dad,” Jared beams, placing a familiar hand at the small of Jensen’s back. “Sign away every last right you have to silence, privacy in the bathroom, and sleeping in." Leaning in, Jared whispers into Jensen's ear, "Happy birthday, Punzel.”

The first part of a twelve page document states that Jared is the sole living biological parent of the triplets. A copy of the biological father’s death certificate is attached, with a prenatal DNA test and affidavit from both the adoption agency and Doctor Linda. These were things Diane was sure to obtain early on in Jared’s pregnancy. No other person may claim biological rights over Jared’s children; not his brother or his parents. The executor of Jared’s will is listed as one Jensen R. Ackles, followed by Misha and Jeff, with a clause that in the event that anything happens to all four of them, Hannah Doreen-Ackles legally becomes the triplets’ legal guardians. A flagged page before the final set of signatures is a court order filing for Jensen to be recognized as Jared’s co-parent since they are not married and Jensen has no biological tie. It’s understood that that must be cleared first in order for the last page, the one with four spaces for signatures, to go through. On the twelfth page is a summary of the terms and agreements. 

Jensen reads it carefully.

_We, Jared Padalecki and Jensen R. Ackles, the parents of ____, enter into this Shared Parenting Agreement with Misha Collins and Jeffery D. Morgan in order to better meet our parental responsibilities and to safeguard our children’s futures. We recognize that our children wish to love and respect the four of us, regardless of our marital status or place of residence. We hereby accept and identify the parentage and agree to the surname of the below named children. We agree that this Parenting Agreement is to remain in effect for a minimum of three (3) years and is automatically renewable if no revisions are sought. We further agree to first seek and jointly agree on the services of an objective third party, which will emphasize working out problems informally without first going to court. We agree that all four parents listed here retain rights to both legal and physical custody._

 

 

A bottle of champagne opens and a glass of sparkling grape juice is served.

Without hesitation Jensen signs, initials, and dates.


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen drops off his uniform and badge; he gets a text and goodbyes are made to more than his coworkers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, i'm sick. i have this terrible cold and i had to call off work, which i hate doing so i'm miserable and icky and ugh. where is my jensen to take care of me while i'm sneezing and gross? ;-; 
> 
> so while i'm sitting here congested to all hell, i'm writing things to make myself cry. and you. i'm sorry not sorry. /cries/ had awful writer's block so i hope this is somewhat decent.
> 
> the song is "the fool" by the trishas. beautiful. you should listen to it. it's the song that i see jared listening to and thinking of himself. we all have those songs. this chapter also just... solidifies that just because you look like someone doesn't mean you're close. but when one relationship closes, another grows stronger. 
> 
> i'm gonna go cry into my tissues now.

While Jensen is in the HR office at Disney, he receives a text from an unknown number. He reads it, tucks his phone back in his pocket, and signs over his badge and uniforms. His last paycheck, which includes all the paid time off he had saved up, is handed over.

He walks past Storybook and says goodbye to the few coworkers that hadn’t managed to piss him off too much during his time there. Rhonda hugs him tightly; she’ll see him in a few days to hang out. Antonio shakes his hand at first, then pulls him into a hug Jensen is sure could result in his lungs being crushed. A business card is placed into Jensen’s hand but he doesn’t have time to read the entire thing. He reads “Santa Monica” on it before reading the newest text from the same number on his phone. He has to go. With a thank you, he tucks the business card into his wallet and leaves, thankful for not seeing Jerry.

Through the walk towards the park, making his way to the lot, he passes Gibson’s. He remembers those vouchers and the smidge of whipped cream on Jared’s bottom lip.

Faithfully, his car starts up. He drives towards La Plaza.

 

Without Jared, the one bedroom apartment has gone to hell.

It hurts to see all of Jared’s careful maintenance and upkeep lost on someone who clearly doesn’t care or appreciate it, and to see Jared’s things tossed aside, neglected. Patiently, Jensen gathers up what he knows is Jared’s and places them in plastic bags.

All of Jared’s possessions from this place fit in the frail hold of four plastic grocery bags; two for books and two for his pre-pregnancy clothes and some odds and ends. There’s a brass picture frame with a black and white photo of two unhappy people. As he holds the frame, standing in the tiny living room he used to watch television with Jared, he figures that these must be Jared’s parents. Their stern, cold stare doesn’t bother him. It’s what he knows they did that causes his grip to tighten.

How? How could you do that to your kids?

Jared still took care of the frame. It’s been recently polished. There isn’t one chip in it despite it having moved out West and with Jared on the streets. It was folded in between some of Jared’s old shirts. Jensen takes in a deep breath. This place stinks. It no longer smells like Jared or food simmering on the stove. It reeks like stale air and old garbage. He loosens his hold on the frame and tucks it into a bag with clothes. One final sweep is made. Jensen looks behind and under the couch. He roots around the kitchen, trying to see if there’s anything they’ve been missing at his place. Most of the important stuff was taken in the first haul. These are loose threads that he’s collecting.

“Sometimes,” he can hear Jared say in the back of his mind while he’s knee deep in garbage, trying to reach a stuffed animal that fell behind the television, “bad things happen for good reasons.”

Mr. Bun is rescued. Jensen sets him in a bag with more care than he did the picture frame.

If Jared hadn’t left, Jensen wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t be going home to kisses and soft sighs and whines for strawberry ice cream and a foot rub. Without Jared’s search for something better, Punzel wouldn’t truly exist. He wouldn’t have been saved. He wouldn’t be dad.

No matter who they are, Jensen is going to love them. He promises them that as he steps over pizza boxes and empty beer cans. He doesn’t have to meet them to know that they’re going to be perfect.

The front door opens as Jensen is picking up all four bags. He meets hazel eyes that look so much and yet nothing like the ones he knows. Tristan looks away first. Jensen feels something dark manifest itself in his chest; something he can’t put a name to. It threatens to spill over into actions he’s sure he would regret later on. No swearing. No fighting, he adds. That’s not how we do things. But he can’t help his words.

This is for letting your brother sleep on the street.

This is for letting him get molested, harassed, and robbed at a shelter.

This is for letting him take the bus and walk.

This is for letting him sleep on the couch and lie awake at night while you fucked someone while he wondered if this was all that life had to offer him—if this was always how it would be.

What Jensen actually says isn’t any of that. But what he does say it sums it all up. His words are clear and unmistakable as he passes Tristan in the doorway, stepping outside, each step one step closer to where he needs to be.

“Your loss.”

He steps down onto the first step of many, his hold on the bags sure and steady.

The door slams shut.

Serves you right.

 

Jensen makes two stops. One for copies and the other for ice cream.

 

Jared looks every bit eighteen when he’s pacing the front step of the house when Jensen drives up. Concerned hands fly to Jensen’s face, thumbs pressing against his cheek, eyes searching Jensen’s to see if something happened. Jensen shakes his head and bumps their noses together. I’m okay. Are you?

With the bags beside them, they sit on the step and watch the sun set.

They pass the ice cream back and forth until Jared sets it down. He looks at his belly, cradling it with his hands, and closes his eyes.

Honest and sad, allowing his accent to slip out, Jared murmurs lines of a song he listened to when he left Texas and when the last trace of Texas left him in a motel room with a torn condom and no clue.

“Let’s talk about this fool that I’m sure we both know. She’s trying to stand on her own after fallin’ once more. She’s too quick to let someone in. She’s crazy as hell when she drinks too much gin. She wants to feel needed but she’s never felt more alone.” He rests his head on Jensen’s shoulder. His belly heaves with every breath. “Life is too short and too long to live stuck in the mud. Rain never lasts very long but she chases those storms no matter how strong. Really, she’s diggin’ a rut.” Their hands slip together; Jared squeezes tight. “She’s managed to love you with one big ole hole in her heart.”

It was a long trip. He almost turned back.

“Let her down easy tonight. She longs to feel loved but don’t hold her too tight. She thinks that she wants you, she really needs anything but.” Jared won’t ever forget this song or what happened before he requested that transfer out of Gibson’s. He won’t ever forget how he expected Jensen to stand him up for sundaes. And when Jensen didn’t, how he prayed that this might be a good man; that he in turn might be a good man too. How sometimes bad things happen for good reasons. “So let’s talk about this fool that I’m sure we both know…”

It’s Jensen’s turn to pull Jared out of a dark place.

He presses kisses to Jared’s dimples, the tip of his nose, and the corners of his eyes where tears are falling. Then he presses a plain piece of paper into Jared’s hand.

“Don’t got anymore savings,” he breathes and noses Jared’s soft hair.

Jared tenses up, sniffling. “What? Jen…”

“Jeff helped.” The older man used to be a licensed lawyer before he got into acting. Everything is set. The piece of paper unfolds and Jensen waits until Jared gets to the bottom, where Jensen and Jeff’s signatures are. “It’s not much,” Jensen admits quietly and places an arm around Jared's trembling shoulders. “But it’s a start.”

He had planned on waiting until the big day to share this.

But it pulls Jared out of the shadows of his past. It has pulled Jensen out of the shadows of his past many times over.

“You’re awful,” Jared cries, wrapping his arms around Jensen’s shoulders and clinging. “Oh my god…”

In the Anaheim Bank are three trust funds set up by one Jensen R. Ackles, witnessed by one Jeffery D. Morgan. Three thousand dollars securely waits in each account until the babies turn eighteen. Should anything happen to Jensen before that date, one Jared Paladecki becomes the trustee. The trusts are meant for college but a clause is there stating that the children don’t have to use it for that if their lives lead them somewhere else.

Because Jensen’s life has led him somewhere else.

It’s been every bit his gain.


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeff and Misha's wedding song is "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." He remembers it in a different setting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what! an update? how? idk! i just got home from work, set up my humidifier, nestled with my blankets and tissues and bam--this chapter wrote itself.
> 
> there's some of me in this chapter. be kind to it. <3
> 
> uhm the best version of this song, in my opinion anyway, is by marvin gaye and tammi terrell. it's the kind of song that when it comes on at work, i have to dance through the aisles to it. 
> 
> still sick but thank you for all the get better wishes! keep that healthy energy coming my way! <333
> 
> another chapter coming up. :)

The file was sent over to Jeff’s office by express courier. He signed for it and called Misha right away.

“Don’t you dare open it without me,” his partner had threatened. “I’m serious, Jeff.” That last part really did mean that Misha was serious. The one time Jeff hadn’t listened to _I’m serious, Jeff_ , well, things around the house were incredibly tense for a week. He swore on his future grave that he would wait until they got together at the end of the night to open the file.

All afternoon that file taunted him. It sat on his desk, mocking him at every glance. Adding to the insult was a last minute rehearsal for a show he was doing purely as a favor, but required immediate attention. Never trust three drag queens to do anything on time. At least he wasn’t the only one running late; Misha had investors from a different time zone suddenly request a conference call. When Jeff stopped at home before heading to the club, he found a post-it on the fridge, his partner’s familiar writing on it in big letters: JDM ILU CUL8R. Jeff remembers that just like he remembers all the notes he’s found from Misha over the years. Ranging from JDM HPBD ILU to JDM HPVD ILU to JDM IWAFWY—that one took decoding: I want a family with you—he kept them and memorized every single one.

Two hours later, Jeff dragged himself through the house, tossing his heels out of his hands, not caring where they landed. He staggered into a hot shower and half an hour later, collapsed in bed.

Santa Monica had been their home for five years now. But it was that night, as he stared at the still sealed file he had brought up, that he really felt like the house was too big. They bought it because they liked it, of course, but also because of the space. By the time it was certain that they would never fill the space on their own, neither of them wanted to leave Santa Monica.

Two painful miscarriages, one grueling six hour surgery later, and a phone call announcing that it had been cancer after all—that’s when it was real to them that the guest rooms would never be nurseries or bedrooms. The toll it took on Misha was more than purely physical; for months, his partner was a different person. They’d gotten the cancer out of him, lucky to have found it early while it was still stage one, but with it they’d taken his entire reproductive system out. They thought that their entire chance at a family had been taken too.

Just one year after the surgery, Jeff found another post-it on the fridge: JDM LA. It translated to: let’s adopt.

Jeff sat up on the bed, tired to the bone, Diana Ross still ringing in his head. He lifted up the file. It seemed too small. There couldn’t possibly be an entire profile of a person in here. Maybe Jill had sent them something else? They had piles of paperwork that they had been sending back and forth in between interviews; maybe this just got lost in the shuffle. Interviewing for two years made them good friends with Jill, who said she had a lead from a colleague of hers out in Anaheim. There were already a few prospective couples lined up for the lead but Jill managed to convince her contact that Jeff and Misha should be put in the running and given a preliminary interview at the very least.

“Open it!” Misha shouted from the hallway, his hurried footsteps welcomed noise. “Open it, open it, open it!” Briefcase cast aside, Misha launched himself onto their bed. They had been to five interviews in two years. Every time they were passed over. And Jeff knew that his partner didn’t begrudge anyone for choosing a different couple. But he also knew that Misha’s heart couldn’t take much more “no thank you, we went with…”

“He’s adorable,” Misha cooed, holding the file in his hands, smoothing his hand over the 3x5 photo of the birth parent. “Look at those dimples. Wouldn’t you want a set of dimples around?”

“Three sets,” Jeff mentioned, handing over a basic sheet of information. “They’re triplets, Mi. That’s three babies.”

Blue eyes lit up. “I know what triplets means… oh my god. Look how tiny!” Misha didn’t give the basic sheet more than glance before he flew right to an ultrasound picture. “Jeff, they’re adorable.”

“How can you tell? Those are blobs.”

“ _I_ can tell,” his partner snorted and dug through more paperwork. While he rambled off on how triplets would be perfect, Jeff was not convinced. They didn’t have much more experience with kids other than occasionally babysitting some of their friends’ children and even those hadn’t been newborns or multiples. Sometimes one of the queens showed up with a nephew or a grandchild but Jeff had never had to change a diaper. He could barely imagine three diapers all needing a change. He was about to bring up this fact when Misha stood up and started pacing, holding a few sheets of paper with handwriting on them instead of print.

“Listen,” Misha instructed, reading from the sheets. “Birth parent is eighteen and not a California resident. Biological father is deceased; death certificate pending. BP will only adopt all three children to one couple. BP has history of trauma, abuse, negligence, malnutrition, and homelessness. BP has two living parents and is a twin. Twin brother lives in Anaheim; has not attended any appointments or returned any phone calls from agency. BP has part-time employment at Disneyland. This is BP’s first pregnancy.” At this, Misha sat down on the floor. Jeff sat on the edge of the bed to see him. Quietly, Misha read off the rest, his tone changing. “BP was brought in to AMC ER and was treated for severe anxiety and nausea. ER staff tested for pregnancy; tested positive. Staff also discovered bruising, extensive scarring on BP’s shoulders, and signs of recent physical trauma. BP is undergoing counseling.”

The file was set down.

They looked at each other. Jeff bit on his bottom lip; Misha’s brow furrowed.

“That’s a kid with a past,” Jeff murmured, shaking his head. He got off the bed and sat down next to Misha. “A long, traumatic, probably homophobic past.”

“He’s from Texas, guess it makes sense.”

“Mi… three is a lot.”

“Three is perfect.”

“All at once?”

“Yes.”

“You’re gonna change three sets of diapers every four hours?”

“Nope. You’re gonna help.” The file was picked up and placed into Jeff’s hands. Confident blue eyes looked at him. “There’s something here, Jeff. My scars hurt.”

Surgery left Misha with three tiny but visible scars on his abdomen. Whenever they hurt, Misha took it as a sign. A flip through the file once more revealed that the BP, whose name was kept confidential, wanted to have visitation rights at least once a year, if possible, once a month.

They got ready for bed. They brushed their teeth and shut off the lights in the rest of the house. While Misha fiddled with a few things on his phone, sitting up in bed, Jeff passed by the guestrooms. The plan had been one. One, until maybe it was five years old. Then two. Two seemed like a good number. They would always have each other. Although he hadn’t seen his brothers in at least a year, Jeff knew that whatever he needed they’d be there. The same could be said for Misha’s brother and sister.

The plan had never been for three, much less all at once. It would be like jumping into the deep end of parenting without a life preserver. But just one look at Misha in bed, once again looking through the file…

“Listen baby,” Jeff sighed, rolling into bed, flicking his partner’s nose.

“If you need me call me,” Misha laughed and pushed his hand away. “No matter where you are, no matter how far…”

“Don’t worry baby.”

“Just call my name.”

"I'll be there in a hurry."

"You don't have to worry."

 

Jeff settled into bed, hands behind his head.

He could teach that song to three.


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen is clueless at the best of times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was super fun. oh jen. you stupid, stupid man. 
> 
> i loved misha's reaction. XD 
> 
> uhm remember when i said this would be a 20k fic? looks like we might make it to 100k. T_T you don't mind, do you? i hope not? 
> 
> <3 feeling better today, yay! more updates later. hopefully a Your Law one.

Jensen has grown a beard.

It’s part from laziness and part rebellion. He hasn’t been able to grow out facial hair in the year and a half he’s worked at Disney. Abandoning his razor feels odd at first, and the stubble that grows in itches, but it only takes a week for it to become an actual beard instead of scruff. After that he’s too busy to even notice it. Doctor Linda was right: the last part of a pregnancy goes by the fastest. There’s just so much to do and Jensen perpetually feels like he’s forgetting something.

He goes out on the Monday two weeks after his epic departure from Disney and the rescue of Mr. Bun, a stuffed rabbit that Jared won’t stop carrying around like he’s five years old. Today’s plan is to drive to Santa Monica and make some nursery decisions Misha insists can’t be done over the phone. After that he needs to go grocery shopping, drop off a package for Hannah at the post office, and get his driver’s license renewed. These are what his days are mostly like now: running errands, cooking, cleaning, and driving back and forth between Santa Monica and Anaheim. He doesn’t mind. It keeps him busy and productive. Everyone has been more than supportive of him getting a job a few months after the babies are born. He has his last paycheck with all his paid time off included to live off until then, and Misha has been reimbursing him for gas, despite his protests. A gift card that gets refilled online was handed to Jensen a week ago, with threats from Misha that if he doesn’t use it, bad things will happen. Misha’s not that great at threatening people or being intimidating, but Jensen takes Jared’s advice and lets someone do something nice for him.

The route to and from Santa Monica is as familiar to Jensen as any of the streets in Anaheim. He’s driven Rhonda over a few times now, and on Friday afternoon they walked the pier and shared a boat of garlic fries while the sun set and she updated him on what the mice have been chattering about. She always brings with her some mix tapes and burned CDs with the most random playlists. After the pier they drove down the coast for a while before heading back, with Ursula blasting one minute and Seether the next.

But she’s working today and Jared doesn’t feel up to a car ride—he naps a lot more often, as Hannah predicted—so it’s a solo flight for Jensen. He stops to get gas in downtown Santa Monica and quickly gets distracted. A music shop around the corner pulls him in. After that it’s a pizza place with paper thin slices stacked with cheese and pepperoni. And after that it’s a toy store he wasn’t going to go into but does because he sees a familiar object in the window. He’s lucky when the owner goes into the back and finds two more just like it. By the time Jensen makes it out of downtown and over to Misha’s, he’s an hour late. As a peace offering, he’s brought over a pizza. Food makes everything better, right?

Getting out of the car and walking up to the door, pizza in hand, Jensen feels good. 

The last Doctor Linda visit cleared Jared from being hospitalized. All three babies have reached the robust weight of four and a half pounds each. The largest is nearly at five. Everyone has good heart beats and Jared’s blood pressure is within range for a parent carrying triplets at thirty-two weeks. She taught them the signs of labor, and Jared every so often has a few contractions, but she assures him those are normal. If the contractions number more than four in an hour, then they need to worry. But as far as she can tell, there's no need to keep Jared in the hospital or on confined bed rest. He does need to take it easy, though. They’re starting the thirty-third with increased naps, smaller meals every four hours, and a lot of water. Unless Jared is craving something from a fast food place, all of his meals are fresh and homemade. Jensen has bought two cookbooks and tries a new recipe every chance he gets. So far, the spinach quiche has had the best reception.

Outside the door, Jensen waits after he rings the bell. He rings twice when no one answers after a minute. Eventually, he hears Misha shouting from inside that he’s so sorry, he thought that was his phone, and oh my god why is Jensen getting here so late… The older man opens the door, flustered and fumbling. Jensen holds the pizza protectively—he wants another slice of this, it can’t fall to the ground—and they end up awkwardly staring at each other. Jensen is out of clothes since he has laundry to do when he gets home, so he threw on faded cargo shorts and a shirt from high school that’s a little too tight in the shoulders but it passed the sniff test. He’s been wearing flip flops more often since he’s at home, in true California bum style. Misha’s blue eyes flit up and down his outfit for a few seconds; Jensen worries that there’s a stain or a rip in the shorts he hadn’t noticed.

Misha slams the door in his face.

Jensen stands there in shock.

Misha opens the door a second later, red in the face, muttering something about, “The pizza man… holy fuck… just… get in here.”

For the rest of his time in Santa Monica, Misha can hardly say three words together without blushing, choking on pizza or juice, or stammering. He kicks Jensen out early, sending him back to Anaheim before traffic builds up. Jensen tries to tell him that it’s only one in the afternoon, what the hell kind of traffic is there at one in the afternoon? But he barely gets a word in before he’s pushed out the door.

Fucking weird.

 

Shit like that happens everywhere Jensen goes. People look at him and then they start muttering, looking away, and telling him to have a _nice_ day. At the grocery store, the elderly lady who checks him out literally checks him out, openly staring. Jensen nervously tugs at his shirt and scratches his beard. Is there something on his face? Did he get sauce on his shirt? Is there a piece of oregano stuck in his teeth?

On the back of his receipt, he notices after he’s done loading the bags into the trunk, is a number written in purple ink, followed the name _Dorothy_ in flowery cursive. But the woman was just staring at him like he was some kind of alien. How does this make sense?

In a rush, Jensen stuffs the receipt into his pocket.

At the post office, the guy at the counter keeps referencing to the package Jensen is sending. It’s a box of stuff Hannah is mailing to her youngest son out East. He’s pretty sure there’s not much in it except for a few t-shirts, gift cards, and a note to call more often and stop drunk texting his father. Still, the postal guy keeps saying that it’s a really good looking package. Looks big. He has a lot of experience with big packages. Jensen replies that it’s not any bigger than the other standard Flat Rate boxes. When the guy mentions that there’s nothing flat about _his_ package, Jensen starts praying. He’s not sure if Darren is going to get his stuff but he doesn’t care at that point. It’s paid for and Jensen leaves, confused and a little overwhelmed.

Again, on the receipt he gets, is written the guy’s name and a phone number, with a comment about free shipping. What. The. Fuck.

Even at the DMV, the most depressing place on earth, the three ladies working the renewal counter argue about who is more qualified to renew his license. There’s supposed to be a test or something but Ruth, with bright red, acrylic nails insists that for _him_ the only test is to stand there for a minute longer before they take his picture.

A brand new license is handed over, along with the three phone numbers from Ruth, Bonnie, and Debra.

Ruth waves at him and blows him a kiss. 

 

At five, when Jensen is at the pharmacy picking up supplies, a text comes through from Jared requesting two Big Macs extra special sauce, large fries, a strawberry milkshake, chicken nuggets with honey mustard—ask at the window or they forget—and three apple pies. Please. Jensen mentions that if Jared waits, he can throw together a casserole but Jared just texts him back that he’ll eat that _too_. Too means that the trip to McDonald’s is still necessary if Jensen wants to live. He’s tempted to tell Jared that eating that much food in one sitting is going to making him sick. The bigger the babies get, the more they push on Jared’s stomach and lungs, thus necessitating smaller and more frequent meals. But he’s already at the McDonald’s so there’s no point.

The drive-thru is ten cars deep from people getting off of work, so instead of wasting gas there, Jensen parks and goes inside. He only has to wait a minute before he gets to order, reading off the text to the young man behind the counter. While he’s waiting for the order to be put together, the cashier leans over the counter and winks.

“I’m off in ten,” he whispers to Jensen. “You wanna?”

Jensen stupidly wants to ask, wanna _what_ , but he realizes that this is a conversation that can’t go anywhere good. He gives a tight but polite no thank you and the guy huffs, turning around and shoving the bags of food and milkshake into Jensen’s arms.

Before this day gets any weirder, Jensen bolts.

 

“I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying.”

“Yes I am.”

“I told you not to eat that much.”

“Shut up, Jensen!”

“…”

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Jen.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not! Now you’re mad at me! I’m sorry, oh god…”

The heave Jared makes into the toilet causes Jensen’s stomach to quiver in fear. Jared ate everything; if he could have inhaled it he would have. Too much, too fast and this is an outcome Jensen was expecting. The babies don’t tolerate more than a potion of food at a time but Jared’s cravings send mixed signals. Clinging to the toilet, Jared cries in misery. Jensen tries t rub his back but it doesn’t help much. Nothing will help that much until Jared gets it all out. When he finally does, Jensen is there with a damp, warm washcloth, wiping away his tears and cleaning up his mouth and chin.

They lock eyes as they’re both kneeling on the bathroom floor.

It’s the most bizarre moment. The bathroom smells like thrown up McDonald’s, which is of course, awful. Jared’s eyes are red from crying so much and his hair is a mess. Jensen is shirtless since it fell victim to the Great McDonald’s Accident. But there’s something there. It makes Jensen’s mouth water and the small of his back warm. He can’t explain it. He doesn’t want to.

“Punzel,” Jared breathes, wheezing a little, clearing his throat. “Your phone is ringing.”

“Oh, shit.”

“No swearing,” Jared murmurs softly and sits down with an oomph.

Hurriedly, Jensen digs his phone out of his pocket, pulling out all the receipts and paper from today with it. He ignores as he answers the call, which is from a number he doesn’t recognize. The call is full of static and he has a hard time hearing the other line, so he doesn’t immediately notice that Jared is picking up what’s fallen out of his pockets.

 

There are now two reasons Jensen is fucked.

Jared holds up the scraps of paper and reads the numbers, fresh tears and sadness in his eyes.

And Jensen’s father has just landed in Long Beach.


	53. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared recites a poem; Jensen has the opportunity to experience something new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so i have to figure this out. may come back to edit this later. i'm not sure if it comes through here: jensen used to be in an emotionally abusive relationship. remember how hannah outlined it? so whenever jensen and his ex had a fight or a misunderstanding, it was always twisted to be jensen's fault. 
> 
> so now, this is jared admitting that A) he should have listened and B) he needs to slow down, especially when he's overwhelmed and feeling crappy, and remind himself who he's got next to him. i know what he says is small but i hope it speaks volumes: jared isn't done healing. ahhh i hope that's apparent. the longer these two are together, the less they'll be afraid or resort to old habits and mindsets. we see jensen breaking his; this is jared's own step forward. 
> 
> a strangely emotionally draining chapter. 
> 
> the poem is by sherman alexie. it's called "love songs" and it's written under this fictional character in his newest book Blasphemy. 
> 
> consider this a bump in the road for these two. they've gotten into little things here and there before this, and jared has said sorry. but this is an apology. <3
> 
> onwards!

It doesn’t happen the way it’s happened before.

Before, Jensen got yelled at. Before, he got pushed away. Before, his phone calls and texts went cruelly unanswered for days until he was deemed worthy enough to speak to again.

This kind of stuff happens. Jensen keeps receipts because the groceries were paid for by Jeff and Jensen likes to show that he’s not goofing around with the money he’s grateful to be given so he can make fresh meals for Jared. Even though Jeff says it’s not necessary--he has trusted Jensen with his black AMEX after all—Jensen likes to have a record. The receipt from the post office has a tracking number Jensen wants Hannah to have in case Darren doesn’t get the box. And the shit from the DMV just ended up stuffed in his pocket. He’s explaining this to himself in his head as they’re still in the bathroom and preparing a case for himself. He has to build a good defense; he doesn’t want to get the silent treatment from Jared.

“Come here,” Jared sniffs, wiping away at his tears. “Please?”

Right away, Jensen moves forward. The wind is knocked out of him as Jared gives him a tight hug.

“I should have listened,” Jared cries. His shoulders are trembling and Jensen is worried by the force with which Jared is crying. “I was… just… really hungry and I’m sorry. I don't doubt you, please, don't think that. It just hurts. Because I'm always..." He glances to the scraps of paper on the floor. "Afraid. Not that you'd do anything, please, Jen, it's not you. It's me.” Jared places some space in between them, long fingers tracing the edge of Jensen’s beard. He hiccups and looks away but doesn’t let go. This is permanent. Right here. Jared has never had anything like that. Not with his parents, not with his twin, and until recently, not with his own children. 

Jared is not a quiet person. He has a special talent for being able to strike up conversation with anyone at any time; it’s something that Jensen can’t do, despite a few attempts after meeting Jared. He’s worked with Rhonda longer than he’s known Jared and they’ve talked more in the past two weeks than they’ve ever talked at work. Although Jensen had friends in high school he never kept up with anyone after. He was too wrapped up in _before_.

So the silence that fills the bathroom right now is unnerving. Something is wrong. Jensen wants to fix it.

Somewhere along the way, before, he got used to taking the blame for everything. The residual affect is that he assumes everything is his to shoulder. 

“I have loved you during the powwow and I have loved you during the rodeo.” Jared’s voice is soft and unsteady, not its usual boisterous and confident self. He sniffs and shakes the hair out of his face. “I have loved you from jail and I have loved you from Browning, Montana. I have loved you like a drum and drummer and I have loved you like a holy man.” Familiar fingers trace the outline of Jensen’s beard and finally, Jared makes eye contact again.

“I have loved you with my tongue,” he whispers. “And I have loved you with my hands.”

Those hands press at exquisite pressure points in Jensen’s throat and neck. They are gentle yet firm, with the precise amount of hold. Jensen feels his heart squeeze and his breathing come a little faster. This is a place where the right amount of force could kill him. The throat is a vulnerable and tender part of the human body but he leans into Jared’s touch. What knots are there are soon smoothed out; they dissipate into warm, relaxing numbness.

“But I haven’t loved you like a scream,” Jared sighs and holds his head down. “And I haven’t loved you like a moan. And I haven’t loved you like a laugh. And I haven’t loved you like a sigh. And I haven’t loved you like a cough.” His voice doesn’t grow in volume or force. It wanes, it fractures, it splits the closer it gets to the end, the truth, the confession of what is beneath every line. This is a poem. “And… and I haven’t loved you well enough.”

This is a poem Jensen has never heard or read before.

He wants to memorize it.

He wants to turn the last line around.

 

This is Jared’s apology.

Jensen is new to apologies.


	54. Chapter 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen is pampered; Jared shows him something new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tiny chapter but i had to lol. XD
> 
> this is pretty much immediately after their fight. make up sex is awesome.
> 
> more to follow, thanks for your patience! life has been chaotic and my writing time cut in half. also been in a weird mood that distracts me from writing. boo!
> 
> i like small chapters like these. it leaves a lot to your imagination and i know you guys have awesome imaginations. <3

“Jared. Do that again.”

“Do what?”

“That.”

“This?”

“Oh fuck…”

“Mmm. _This_.”

“Uh huh.”

“…”

“Mother… shit… uhn… where’d you learn _that_?”

“…I’ve watched porn, Jensen.”

“But…!"

"..."

"Uhn... ha... ah oh..."

"..."

"Jared!" 


	55. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting arrives; it starts off well enough...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> need to crash into bed--so sleepy. 
> 
> i updated three fics today! /flails/
> 
> <333 thank you for reading.

There is a dinner with business associates and lawyer type people in Long Beach, which buys them time the night of the infamous phone call. At ten there is a text announcing a hotel in Long Beach has been checked into and they should expect him over by eight the next morning.

After the world’s best blow job and delivery from his favorite Thai place, Jensen passes out.

He wakes up at quarter to seven in the morning to the smell of pancakes and the sound of Nicki Minaj blasting through the stereo in the kitchen. As quietly as possible, after he puts on a pair of boxers, he creeps over to the kitchen and finds Jared dancing, an apron draped over his belly. Freshly made and fluffy pancakes sit in a towering stack beside the stove while Jared finishes kneading biscuits. Well, that’s what he’s in the process of doing as Jensen catches him singing and wiggling around; Jared proudly knows every word to “Pound the Alarm.”

The horrible reality of being awake at seven in the morning is tempered by witnessing Jared declare to the world that he is a bad bitch, no muzzle, let’s go.

“Ahem,” Jensen clears his throat, leaning against the doorway, grinning through the bleariness of his mind. Jared turns around and screams from shock; Jensen runs for his life. He is eventually cornered, swatted, and kissed with flour-covered hands that shoo him to the shower. A change of clean clothes on a hanger is passed to him. Jared has been awake since four partially from anxiety but mostly from the babies refusing to stay still. He likens it to wiggly, squirmy puppies mashing and rolling around his internal organs, making it difficult to breathe or concentrate on anything else. The babies seem to understand, in their own way, that something major is about to happen. So, because of their refusal to sleep, Jared has taken advantage of being awake.

“Laundry’s done,” he tells Jensen as he pushes him into the bathroom. “Floors are mopped, living room vacuumed…”

“You vacuumed and I didn’t hear it?” Jensen blurts out.

“Punzel,” Jared sighs, “I could have given birth and you wouldn’t have woken up last night. Now go! Soon as you get out I gotta jump in. I hope your dad eats breakfast. He eats breakfast, right? Hurry up!” A swat to Jensen’s ass is given. “I still have to fry bacon!”

That’s how Jensen finds himself standing in the middle of the bathroom, holding a hanger full of clothes, completely bewildered. What the fuck.

 

Hannah arrives half an hour later, just as Jensen is finished shaving. She walks in on him, apologizing, and starts the shower again. When he protests and starts to cover himself up she snaps that she’s the one who changed his diapers and tolerated him running down the street naked one day, when he escaped from the babysitter—what he’s got isn’t news to her. Just as the water is starts, Jared joins them, rattling off to everyone that the bacon needs to be turned in five minutes and if it’s not no one is allowed to complain about their portion.

“I’m still in here!” Jensen insists.

Sadly, he is outnumbered and subsequently kicked out so Hannah can help Jared take a quick shower. He is urged to get dressed—“don’t mess up your outfit, I ironed it!”—and he does so while sulking in his room. Their bed has been made and the condom wrappers from the night before, which had fallen on the floor in their disuse, have been picked up and thrown out. All of Jared’s stuff is neatly packed away into one corner of the room, with Mr. Bun sitting on top of a plastic bag that has yet to be opened and unpacked. Jared has taken his time with those bags. Jensen hasn’t asked.

The outfit chosen for him today is formal. After not wearing a uniform for close to three weeks, dressing up in a polo and khakis is a chore. He would have no problem wearing the same outfit as yesterday. Though he can only imagine the disapproval from not only his father, but from both Jared and Hannah. It’s probably best to suck it up and put on the damn polo. At least this one doesn’t have Mickey Mouse embroidered on it. Jared likes to match things to Jensen’s eyes; the polo is a shade of light green. He debates on tucking in or leaving it but then reminds himself that this is his father—tucked in it is.

The bathroom door bursts open fifteen minutes later at quarter to eight. Jared rushes past Jensen in their room and starts nervously brushing his hair so he can tie it back. The ponytail reminds Jensen of last night and he sighs at the memory. He can still recall finishing and stretching out, kissing the line of hickeys he left on Jared’s shoulders. The soft gray shirt Jared is wearing now covers all of his work up. So do the black shorts Jared has on—there are hickeys all over the insides of his thighs.

“Wake up,” Jared laughs, running a hand through his hair and holding the tie over what he’s pulling back. “You have the dopiest look on your face.”

A glance towards Jared’s ass and Jensen starts to smirk.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Checkin’ me out.” Jared fixes a few strands and leaves two to frame his face. There is that look of concentration he gets when he’s fiddling with his hair.

Jensen checks his watch, which he’s put on for today. Five to eight. Any moment now. He can hear Hannah’s heels clicking through the house. “Why should I?” he questions and moves to embrace Jared from behind. His hands are gentle; they cup the underside of Jared’s belly, where he feels a slight kick.

“Cause I’m huge,” is said with a pout. “I’m huge and I throw up on you on a regular basis.”

“Gonna be others to throw up on me pretty soon.”

Although Jensen isn’t close to his father by any means, he did write a small email a few weeks ago informing him that he has been dating someone and that they are living with him and Hannah. The babies weren’t mentioned but that wasn’t out of shame or hesitance. Jensen just thought it was their business and no one else’s. He shares the good things in his life with the people who are in it—not the people who are on the edge of it, conveniently away from any stress or involvement. This trip is a surprise in more than one way.

Pressing a kiss to the alluring and exposed back of Jared’s neck, Jensen sighs happily. His hands are joined by Jared’s. The last moment of peace and quiet for the morning lingers. “Thank you,” he rumbles. “I appreciate this.”

He means what he says—he appreciates the fact that Jared has taken care of everything for this morning with very little notice and without being asked. He appreciates the fact that Jared views his father’s arrival as something important. The outcome doesn’t matter much; whatever happens, happens. But Jensen knows he’s lucky. He doesn’t take this morning for granted, even if it’s been chaotic.

Just as Jared starts to murmur his reply, Jensen notices two dark spots on Jared’s shirt.

“You made me leak!” Jared gasps in horror. “Jensen! Get off me!”

And that is how Jensen is kicked out of his room and made to wait in the living room.

 

At 8:01, a limousine pulls up to the drive. The three of them watch from the largest window in the living room. Jensen wants to ask—really? A limo? Just for the ride from Long Beach to Anaheim? How out of place do you want to look? As Hannah huffs and pulls away from the window, Jensen knows he isn’t the only one thinking that.

“Wow,” Jared breathes, the last one at the window. “I’ve never been in a limo before.”

“No?” Hannah says and fixes one of her earrings. “We’ll get one for the big day.”

That prompts a snort from Jared. He moves from the window after Alan tips the driver. “That would be funny. Could you imagine my water breaking in there? Splash! Everywhere.”

“It’s not a splash,” Jensen counters.

“Oh, excuse me,” Jared retorts with a mischievous, dimpled smile. “Pregnancy and birth expert, right here.” His shirt was changed and Jensen likes the new one better. It’s a powder blue one that Jared doesn’t like to wear because it shows stains or leaks more but he knows Jensen has a fondness for it. Just like Jared matches clothes to his eyes, Jensen can never get over how Jared’s eye color changes depending on the color shirt he’s wearing. Today they’re blue, just like at the beach.

“You are both terrible,” Hannah declares and licks her thumb. She rubs a little spot on Jensen’s face, near the freckles over the bridge of his nose. “Worse than puppies.”

Jensen swats at her. “We’re bad? You have a good sleep over?”

The doorbell rings and Hannah doesn’t get a chance to lecture Jensen about being a smartass. Jared squeaks and starts to move around nervously, one hand over his belly at all times. Jensen nearly wants to challenge Hannah to a game of rock-paper-scissors to see who gets the honor of answering the door. She takes one for the team and walks over, confident in her heels and pale pink sundress.

A lot of people see the resemblance between Jensen and his father instantly. Jensen watches Jared’s expression carefully. Observant hazel eyes go from the doorway to Jensen. Without having to speak it, Jensen can tell that Jared can’t see it. Sure, he notices the general things they have in common—the same jaw line and eyes—but Jared isn’t one of the people who see all of Alan in Jensen. Their hands slip together and Jared gives a firm squeeze.

“You look well,” can be heard said to Hannah.

“Thanks. So do you.”

Their hands separate but Jensen places his on the small of Jared’s back right away. His father steps into the living room dressed impeccably in a tailored, light gray suit with a navy tie and silver tie pin. The polished leather shoes he has on clack on the hardwood floor somewhat like Hannah’s heels do. Alan smoothes out the lapels on his suit and his eyes don’t meet Jensen’s. Sharp gray eyes look at Jared, widening slightly at the sight of Jared’s belly. That’s when those eyes meet Jensen’s and demand an explanation.

“I see that we have a wide variety of things to speak of,” Alan states curtly. Jensen isn’t sure that the wide comment is a dig or not but he lets it go… for now.

“Sir,” he says in the firmest voice he can muster at the moment. “This is Jared. Jared…” his voice softens. “This is my dad, Alan.” There’s an incredibly tense ten seconds of complete silence—the kind they used to get at Storybook when a manager would swing by and ask who wanted to run an errand for the sake of the park and their team.

Thankfully, Jared turns on the Texas charm.

He extends a hand out to Alan and they shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir,” Jared chirps with his best smile. “I hope you had a good flight.” There’s no chance to reply to his question before Jared is offering breakfast. “I’ve got it all warm and ready, if you’d like to join us, sir. Got pancakes, biscuits, bacon, and fresh coffee. Plenty for everyone.”

Jensen is pretty sure that the coffee seals the deal.

This isn’t so bad.

Well, it is pretty good until his father eats half a pancake and starts having an allergic reaction to the splash of orange juice Jared put in the pancake batter. Shit.


	56. Chapter 56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the orange juice/pancake incident, they meet for breakfast again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eee okay. so to start my big bang, which i'm pretty sure i want to be punzel related, i have to finish this by tuesday. /fingers crossed/ 
> 
> this is the last larger story arc before the big day. :D
> 
> the restaurant here is the Starling Diner, which i hear has the best french toast. made me so hungry while writing this! off to eat. XD
> 
> i wonder what y'all think jared noticed at the end. see if you can guess. <3
> 
> thank you for reading!

Two Benadryl, twenty-four hours, and a thousand tearful apologies later, Alan insists on taking them out for breakfast this time. Hannah can’t get the day off so it’s the three of them on this intrepid journey.

It starts off okay—not any more awkward than the time Jensen got stuck in an elevator with one of the Casey Jr. ladies for two hours. His father gives them the option of taking Jensen’s car or the limo and Jared’s eyes light up at the mention of the latter. Limo it is. Alan knows a good breakfast spot in Long Beach, he says as he gets in first. Jared approaches the limo with excitement but apprehension. Jensen holds his hands and lowers him carefully onto the edge of the seat so he can turn and scoot in. This is easier said than done; they’re too used to Misha’s SUV and Jensen’s car. Eventually, with some strategic maneuvers, Jared is nestled on plush leather seats and oohing and ahhing at all the gadgets.

“It even smells different,” Jared whispers to Jensen when he joins them.

The mini bar is discovered and Jared eats all the peanuts stashed there. Jensen drinks half a bottle of water and pushes one into Jared’s hands. For the most part, the drive is made in silence. It’s not awkward or strained silence—not entirely—but rather, the kind of silence that occurred whenever Jensen got stuck with a tour group that obviously didn’t want to be there.

Halfway to Long Beach, Jared starts leaking. Not a problem, Jensen’s got this. He is prepared with a bag that includes an extra shirt and some wipes. If it was just them, Jensen would clean up Jared’s chest in a different way but seeing as they aren’t, he lets Jared do it. His father turns away and starts calling a few people on his phone while Jared quickly cleans up and changes his shirt. The slightly damp shirt is folded and placed in the bag. See? Totally not a big deal.

Except that the peanuts give Jared heartburn.

And something about Alan’s cologne bothers him.

And a contraction hits out of nowhere.

Alan’s shoes are amongst the unfortunate victims of the great limo accident.  

 

During breakfast, the driver is sent to have Alan’s shoes cleaned. That means, however, that Alan is stuck wearing the spare pair of flip flops Jensen thankfully packed in the bag.

“At least you look more like a California lawyer,” Jensen tries to joke as they sit down at a table. Alan first said a booth would be fine but Jared raised his hand like he was in school and mentioned that four of their party stopped fitting in booths about five months ago. They waited five more minutes for a table but it was worth it. Jensen helps Jared sit down and tucks the bag under his own chair.

Long Beach isn’t as familiar to Jensen but he remembers a few places including this one. He points out the French toast to Jared—a baguette stuffed with mascarpone cheese, topped with strawberries and whipped cream. Throwing up in the car has had no effect on Jared’s appetite. And by now, Jensen is used to bodily functions so he flips through the menu just fine. He notices his father struggling with the concept of eating so soon after someone has thrown up.

“I’m sorry about your shoes… again,” Jared offers with a shy smile. “All I have to do is throw up on Hannah’s and I’ll have gotten the entire family.”

Just like the California lawyer joke, the humor is lost. Alan sighs and murmurs that there’s no need to keep apologizing. He does remember to tell their waiter that he has an allergy to citrus. A recent allergy—because Jensen doesn’t recall it as a kid or obviously he would have told Jared not to add orange juice to the pancakes. In silence, the three of them look through the menu until their waiter swings by again and asks to take their orders. Alan orders a short stack of wheat pancakes, more coffee, and a side of turkey bacon. Jared decides to go with the French toast and a side of bacon. Their menus are handed over and Jensen orders.

“Can I get a Denver omelet? Um… wheat toast. Side of bacon. And a cup of chili.” This isn’t the kind of place to have chili dogs but the chili by itself might ease up his craving. “Oh,” he mentions at the last second. “Can I also get a side of potatoes with cheese?”

There are two kinds of looks being directed at him right now: one of pride from Jared and one of horror from his father. Jensen can feel himself blush but he just shrugs. “I’m hungry.”

“Good, put some meat on that… uh… skeletal frame of yours,” Jared snorts. “I hope you share those potatoes.”

“Nah, I’ll just hold them in front of your face.”

“I’ll bite your hand.”

“I have no doubt you would.”

“You don’t withhold food from me, Jen. Not allowed.”

Jensen opens his mouth to make the best retort ever but he notices that they’re doing that thing again. That thing that Hannah and Rhonda have mentioned to them where he and Jared become the only people in a room. He can hear Hannah complaining that it’s gross how much they flirt with each other, and he can also hear Rhonda giggling about playing footsie under the table. It doesn’t seem to amuse his father though. Jensen sits straight in his chair and another awkward silence falls over the table. Jared thrums his fingers on his belly and Jensen wonders how the babies are doing. They woke up late this morning after staying awake to talk on the phone to Misha and Jeff last night. The past two days have started to catch up with both of them and he knows that for the rest of the week Jared has to take it easy.

“Jen told me y’all are from the Dallas area?” Jared asks with a friendly voice.

As his father straightens his tie, he answers, “Yes.”

A glance over at Jensen—help. Jensen digs into a scone from the center of the table and passes half to Jared. “Jared’s from Texas, dad.”

“Mmhmm,” Jared continues. “Prettiest town. Small, but pretty. I mean, the weather here is sort of similar. I wasn’t dying of humidity in the summer here, so that’s nice. But you can’t beat the air there. Or the sky at night. There’s so much light pollution out here. And I just feel like things are a little more spaced out in Texas. Well, not that I’ve ever been to many places in Texas, definitely not the big cities, but… uh… yeah.” Jared stops there to see if Alan will pick up any of the subjects he’s just spoken about but it’s like dangling worms in front of a vegetarian fish—that’s Jared’s saying, not Jensen’s.

Another few seconds of silence pass by and Jared flinches. His hands go right to his belly and Jensen leans forward in his chair. A contraction, not a big deal, it’s okay. That makes two within the past hour, which makes Jensen nervous but Jared swats at him and excuses himself to go to the bathroom.

“Sit, don’t worry, I can still do this,” Jared insists when Jensen moves to get up and help him. “Okay. One, two…” The muscles in Jared’s arms flex as he lifts himself off the chair. He gives Jensen a proud smile. “See? Not totally helpless. Oh, shit…” And with that, Jared runs off the find the bathroom before more spare clothes are needed. This leaves Jensen and his father alone at the table. Crap.

They both take a sip of coffee. Jensen finds it funny that they both take their coffee black. That seems to be the most they have in common lately.

“Jensen.”

“Yeah?”

“I… I’m concerned.”

“About…?”

His father’s eyes go to Jared’s chair and then back at Jensen. It’s like Jensen is ten and handing over his report card all over again. “You said you were living with someone, not that you were… involved with someone like… this.”

Jensen tries to think what being involved with someone like _this_ means. All he can think of are sci-fi movie marathons and late night tacos with extra cheese. And late night poems to an audience that gets this look in their eyes that makes it seem like Jensen is the center of the universe. And afternoons sharing cherry popsicles in the backyard, followed by blow jobs right after when Jared’s mouth is still cold and sweet and tinted red. And evenings when they sit on the couch and watch movies, but Jensen is usually too focused on what the babies are doing to pay much attention to whatever is on. He lays his head on Jared’s belly sometimes. Jared likes to joke that Jensen is figuring out how much rent to charge them.

Everyone is involved. It’s not just him.

It’s Hannah and Linda coming over for board game nights where Jensen is merciless in each game of Scrabble but Jared always wins at Monopoly. It’s Hannah, Rhonda, and Misha planning a secret baby shower for Jared because he never had one. Involved? That’s Rhonda taking Jensen out for dinner when Jared is tired and insists that he go out and socialize. That’s Misha and Jeff swinging by whenever they can to order pizza and teach them how to play poker only to find out that Jared is really good at math and numbers and bluffing so within a few games he’s up fifty dollars.

All of this calms Jensen down. He doesn’t care what anyone thinks about their relationship. It isn’t perfect and it’s certainly not a fairy tale. But he feels like Jared was placed into his life at the right moment for all the right reasons. He’s not confident in a lot of things about his life but he is about Jared.

“If you don’t understand why by now,” Jensen says, “then you’re missing the point, dad.”

He knows there are a lot of things his father wants to talk about—Jensen going back to school, getting a law or a medical degree, settling down, having more direction in his life. Hannah has given him the head’s up. He knows that his father thinks he’s using Jared and the babies as direction; that being involved with this boy and his kids seems like an easier task than going to a good college and having a successful career.

In turn, Jensen understands his father a little better than he did when _before_ was happening. Liam was everything Alan approved of and loved. He came from a wealthy San Francisco family, got accepted into UCLA’s engineering program, and had _direction_.

None of that made Jensen happier. None of it saved them in the end.

But he can see where a parent might want all of _that_ for their kid. The only reason he can see it though, is because of Jared.

“Someone tried to give me parenting advice in the bathroom,” Jared announces as he sits back down at the table. “They are, apparently, an advocate of spanking.”

“Are you?” Jensen asks even though he already knows the answer.

Jared’s nose scrunches. “Hell no. I mean… of course not. Who ever thought—gee, my kid did something bad, let me beat them instead of sitting them down and explaining why whatever they did was bad? My parents spanked us. They spanked Tristan once for kissing a girl in the first grade. Lord knows that didn’t do any good.” Jared takes another scone and splits it in half; he passes the bigger half over to Jensen. “Misha and Jeff wanna take us all out tomorrow night. The invitation includes you, Mr. Ackles.”

There is a moment of hesitance. Alan is not a fan so far. But that’s because he thinks he knows what’s best for Jensen. Jensen can’t entirely fault him for that—he wants the best for their soon-to-be little ones. But Alan hasn’t known what was best for Jensen in this regard for a long time.

“I have some meetings,” Alan replies, “but I’ll see what I can do.”

Before they can explain who Misha and Jeff are, their food arrives.

Over breakfast, Jensen makes small talk. He talks about Disney, Jerry, Rhonda, and the group of miniatures enthusiasts he wishes he got to say goodbye to. He talks about his car and the oil change it still needs but he hasn’t gotten around to. Then the sink and how it keeps leaking but he can’t figure out what’s wrong with it and the light in the hallway needs to be changed. Then the weather and his small venture into downtown Santa Monica and how he wishes he can find that pizza place again. And how Jared better be taking smaller bites than _that_ because he knows what’ll happen later and they don’t need a McDonald’s repeat.

 

Even if it’s not about anything particularly important or life changing, Jensen feels different when they leave the restaurant.

A warm, familiar hand slips into his.

“Good job, Punzel,” Jared whispers and presses a kiss to his cheek.

Someone noticed.


	57. Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misha knew it because it hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> auuuuuuuuuuugh. i cried. like... ugly cried. 
> 
> /rolls around in puddle of tears/ 
> 
> sorry not sorry. scars from surgery hurt sometimes. i like to think they're either warnings or the universe telling you something is right. a little push in the right direction.
> 
> eight nine and ten are hannah, linda, and rhonda. <3 wonder if you can guess who eleven and twelve are. 
> 
> omg i need a hug. ;w; 
> 
> before i forget--the poem here is "the little spokane" by sherman alexie (harlan atwater) from his book Blasphemy, from the short story "the search engine." Jared is the one who recites it, in case that wasn't clear.
> 
> thank you y'all. <3

Misha:

 

Misha listens to the conversation between two people three years apart as they’re sitting in the backseat of his SUV on the way to the boardwalk. He turns down the music; he knows Jeff is also listening, even though he’s driving.

“Tell me about your dad.”

“Not much to tell.”

“Tell me something?”

“It’s not… Jen, it doesn’t matter.”

“Okay.”

There’s a sigh and the soft sound of a shoulder being punched.

“My river is not the same size as your river. My river is smaller and colder. My river begins in the north and rushes to find me. My river calls to me. I swim it because it is water. Water doesn’t care about anybody…”

The entire California coast is right outside their windows.

“…But this water cares about me.”

Misha knew it. He knew it from the moment he saw them in that office that three would be five would be seven. It’s the kind of math he likes—adding. Subtraction has been painful. He knew it because it hurt. 

“Or maybe it doesn’t care about me. Maybe the river thinks I’m driftwood. Or a rubber tire or a bird or a dead dog. Maybe the river is not a river.”

The SUV pulls into a parking spot. Hannah and Alan are not too far behind.

They all met at their soon-to-be-all-together-home. Misha isn’t sure what to call it yet. How can you call home _more_ than home?

In a lavender nursery, there are three white, clean and ready cribs. In each crib a pastel colored blanket waits, along with three perfect replicas of Mr. Bun that Jensen found in the toy shop downtown. Jared burst into tears. Hannah did too. Misha held up one of the twenty-one plain cotton onesies with snap buttons. The room is simple but well-stocked. Natural light pours in through the large bay window. Three drag queens and one fabulous interior decorator—all parents or aunties—helped set it all up, with Jared’s input and requests. There are two whitewashed rocking chairs, one in each corner near the bay window. There’s a night light in the shape of a star. A Rapunzel doll sits on the changing table.

Of course there’s more. There’s everything they both wanted to buy for so many different reasons in the past that have converged into one mutual future. Misha took Jared shopping one afternoon. Most of the time they were both in tears or about to be. It wasn’t easy for them at first, for each their own personal reasons. But the room sees the benefit of their time, their losses, and their hard-earned successes. There are tiny white, elastic socks, six sleeper outfits for each baby, extra swaddling blankets, two large bottles of baby shampoo, two baby grooming kits, one temporal thermometer, a stack of washcloths, about a thousand bottles and bibs, a dry-erase board with star magnets, package upon package of baby wipes, three cases of diapers, a box of cloth diapers, and one teddy-bear shaped baby monitor.

A list of things has somehow fit into this room in this house on a quiet street in Santa Monica.

These things are waiting patiently.

There is no rush.

They will be there when they’re needed.

Looking over the nursery, holding Jensen’s hand, Hannah said: “Remember this smell. Remember it always.” The smell of a fresh and new room that smells like baby powder and vanilla and spring. They’re spring children.

Three is perfect. But five is even better. That makes seven but it’s really far, far more than that. Eight and nine and ten are right there. Eleven might come around in a few years’ time. Twelve… well, twelve is being difficult. Twelve is wrapped up in a world with meetings and depositions and billing hours and matching his tie to his socks. That’s okay.

 “Maybe the river is my father. Maybe he’s smaller and colder than your father.” Jared opens his door.

Jensen doesn’t let Jared get out of the car without pulling him back and kissing him.

Sometimes it’s only two.

Misha feels a sense of peace in that.

 

 


	58. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is one thing Jensen hasn't told Jared; Alan reminds him of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a song by Savage Garden--"Affirmation" that kind of inspired this chapter. the line "i believe your parents did the best job they knew how to do" is kind of the point here. i think jensen would understand that line now as opposed to three months ago. 
> 
> There's a line here that I've seen on spn art by wendigo. :)
> 
> been wanting to write that DDR scene foreverrrrrr. <3
> 
> time skip ahead! :D
> 
> i don't see jensen declining this opportunity as a waste. he's very grateful now. but i believe that success is more than a college education. like we saw in another chapter--life takes you different places. hope y'all see that here.
> 
> thank you!

There’s some kind of magic in garlic fries.

When you finish a boat, the person next to you has to give you a kiss for good luck. At least, those are the rules Misha declares when boats and forks are passed out. Jared had to get regular fries because the babies don’t seem to like piles of garlic all at once but Jensen gives Jared a big, sloppy kiss anyway. He makes sure the kiss as garlicky is as possible.

Jeff swings an arm around Alan and presses a kiss to his cheek, followed by a hearty pat on the back. Although his father looks like he might be having a heart attack, Jensen is pretty sure he’ll get over it. Misha and Hannah share a kiss each, pecking their cheeks and laughing about it as everyone walks along the boardwalk. Stalls are illuminated with bright lights, filled with games and prizes and things to buy. The Ferris wheel in the distance casts a happy glow to the coastline. They arrived here at the perfect time: right before sunset. Everything is bathed in a soothing, buttery yellow.

Small breaks are taken on their journey down the boardwalk to give Jared a chance to breathe and rest. Hannah wins a stuffed animal at a bean bag stall and awards it to Jeff, declaring, “A softie for a softie.”

“I’m mean as hell,” Jeff huffs and places the bear on his shoulders.

“She didn’t mean it like that,” Misha banters back, poking Jeff in the middle and smirking boldly.

At the next stall Jensen wins a novelty flower. It’s the size of a football and neon pink so he hands it to Misha who twirls it around like an umbrella for a few minutes until he gets distracted by something and hands it back to Jensen. The older man rushes forward, past their group and towards one of the arcade games. This is one Jensen has seen before but has always stayed away from. Jared claps his hands and joins Misha in his enthusiasm.

“There’s always a hoard of greedy teenagers at this game,” Misha says, digging around in his pocket for quarters.

“Hey,” Jared snaps playfully. “I’m a teenager.”

“Yes, and you are slightly less snot-nosed than they are.” Misha grins and Jared swats at his face. “I left all my change at home. Who has some quarters and who wants to play?”

If it were skee-ball or a pinball machine, Jensen would volunteer. But it’s not. It’s a DDR game complete with platform, railings, and blinding lights at the top. Jensen has quarters but like hell is he going to say anything about that. He lets Jeff and Hannah search their pockets and her purse; Jensen turns around and sees his father at the opposite side of the boardwalk, taking a business call. His finger is jammed into his free ear to hear. Jensen sighs.

“Jen has quarters!” Jared blurts out and doesn’t even flinch when Jensen glares at him. Without a hint of regret, Jared turns to Misha and extends his hand. “I wager that Jen can beat Jeff. Winner buys me ice cream.”

“How is that winning?” Jensen grumbles and wishes that the quarters in his pocket would melt.

Obnoxiously, Jared leans towards him and mentions that later on this evening, when they’re alone, he could possibly maybe remember that Jensen bought him ice cream and that might just work in Jensen’s favor. Hannah sighs that she is grateful she’ll be staying at Linda’s overnight—Linda and Rhonda both got stuck with late shifts tonight.

“I love this game,” is added by hazel eyes that have already gotten Jensen into trouble. “But I’m not exactly able to play it so it’s up to you to kick Jeff’s ass from here to Sunday.”

“I’ll take this bet,” Jeff announces and walks onto the left side of the platform. “Queens have perfect balance. It’s okay,” he adds with a wink. “You can forfeit and save yourself the embarrassment, Jensen. I know I am a formidable competitor. It’s alright. Many have felt your fear.”

The neon flower is passed to Jared. “Hold my flower.”

“I’ll hold your flower,” Jared laughs. “Kick his ass, baby.”

A one dance showdown is selected after Jensen deposits the first four quarters.

They let Misha and Jared pick the songs while Hannah runs down a list of rules—she wants a fair fight, no below the belt moves, and for the love of god, please don’t break anything. Jeff makes a few exaggerated stretching movements and asks Jensen if he’d like to be served his defeat rare, medium, or well done. Jensen leans against the rail and sticks his tongue out as his reply.

This is a simple game in theory, Jensen surmises while settings are being chosen. All he has to do is step where the arrows on screen tell him to step and when. Light mode is chosen and the platform lights up. Jensen makes sure his belt is fastened and his shoes are on right; the last thing he needs is an accident on the boardwalk. Finally, an appropriate song is selected and Misha and Jared move to either side of their partner. Fuck. Why is he nervous? He can do this. Just because Jeff can actually dance—in heels no less—doesn’t mean he has this in the bag.

“You’ll do fine, Punzel,” Jared says and slaps Jensen on the ass.

That’s got to be a good luck charm in itself, right?

 

The song selected is something called “Caramelldansen.” Jared mimics the dance that’s supposed to go with it to Hannah by holding his hands up to his head and bouncing back and forth. That’s the last thing Jensen can see before his eyes are fixed to the screen. He plays video games so this shouldn’t be too hard. But then again his legs and brain don’t seem to be connected at the moment. Who the hell thought putting two arrows at the same time was a good idea?

His sneakers press against the platform as the fast-paced song plays through. Surprisingly, without his heels, Jeff is not as suave as he thinks he is. They are both failing miserably, despite any cheering from their partners or Hannah. Towards the end of the song they decide—fuck it. Jensen laughs harder than he has in the past two days. He gives one valiant effort towards the end but a big, bright F shines on both their screens. Jeff high fives him.

“Now who’s gonna buy me ice cream?” Jared pouts and holds onto the flower protectively.

Jeff swings down from the platform and informs Jared that he and Jensen will _both_ buy him ice cream.

This is an acceptable outcome.

 

By the end of his father’s stay in California, things between them are not resolved or magically better. There will be postcards in the mail for a while after, Jensen can tell.

Jared hugs Alan before he leaves for the Long Beach airport and invites him back to see the babies. The name grandfather is never mentioned; that’s a little too much right now. Although his father has a good poker face, Jensen saw right through it when he mentioned that Jeff has set up everything legal for the babies, Jared, and himself. And go figure, but both of them having law backgrounds doesn’t make Jeff and Alan instant friends. That garlic fries kiss probably didn’t help, either.

“Can’t leave here starting in a week,” Jensen says, standing awkwardly in the doorway. Jared has excused himself to give them a few minutes alone. “You know, to stay close to the hospital in case something happens. So…we’ll be around.”

Just like when Jensen was ten, Alan explains that he has meetings in New York, Chicago, Tokyo, and Paris all this month and next. He has three big cases and two interns to train before May. There are people waiting and depending on him for direction and command. One of the cases is slightly high profile and the firm is dependent on this client to make its final bridge to the Tokyo offices. But Alan is billing at six hundred an hour and maybe Jensen should think about that. It’s not too late. He can still change his mind.

On Jensen’s birthday, Jared asked him why his father didn’t get him anything.

There are very few things Jensen doesn’t share with Jared. This is one of them for now. In a little while, Jensen will tell him. They have plenty of time.

He learned about trusts from his father.

Jensen’s trust expired on his twenty-first birthday. Fifty thousand dollars was not released to him—it was reverted back into Alan’s name. The trust was very specific and he grew up knowing that: enroll in law or medical school and the money is his. Whatever the fifty grand didn’t cover for tuition or living expenses would be paid for out of pocket by Alan and Jensen’s biological mother. Any school was acceptable but Stanford or Berkeley were preferable. Or NYU, or Columbia, or Harvard. Wherever Jensen wanted to go--the trust was there for him.

At the age of eighteen, Jensen had made up his mind. But it wasn’t until he was a month away from turning twenty-one that he actually felt good about his choice. Three years back he was doing it out of spite—no way was he going to conform. He had no interest in law or medicine then and he doesn’t now. He has a head full of poems and he likes working with his hands. There has to be something he can be good at using those two skills. Just because he hasn’t found it yet doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. He’s fortunate to have people around him who support him while he looks for it. It was a Wednesday when he made the phone call to the bank that held the trust. Jensen remembers this because Jared baked him cookies that day.

“You can still change your mind, too,” Jensen says to his father and gives him a hug. “Thanks anyway, dad.”

 

Alan leaves in the limo he arrived in.

A few minutes after, Jared asks him—chocolate chip or oatmeal?

Life goes on.


	59. Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thirty four weeks and counting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving on! :D I think you are all as eager to see these babies born as I am!
> 
> <333
> 
> An important chapter, if a small one.

“Punzel?”

“Hmm?”

“I always wanted to be an art teacher.”

“Heh.”

“What? Hey! Why are you laughing? This is serious, you jerk.” Jared socks Jensen in the shoulder. It’s the Sunday afternoon before thirty-four weeks and they are on the couch in the living room in the middle of an Indiana Jones marathon. Thursday was their last visit to Linda at the hospital; from now on she’ll be doing home visits.

Jensen nurses his shoulder and pushes his foot against Jared’s. Their feet are elevated on an ottoman Rhonda bought at a garage sale. A rolled up blanket is under the small of Jared’s back to ease the pressure there. “I know you’re serious,” Jensen replies, stuffing his face with a handful of cherry tomatoes. “I can just… I can just picture it, that’s all. You’ll come home with glue and glitter in your hair, worn out as hell and you’ll bring artwork your students make for you home for the fridge.”

“Sometimes you say really nice things,” Jared says with a sigh. “Even if you are eating like a pig.”

“Who am I tryin’ to impress?” Jensen shoves a five baby carrots into his mouth this time, crunching and gnawing like a deranged hamster. He leans in close.

With a horrified look on his face, Jared pushes Jensen’s face away from his and shrieks for Jensen to stop before the babies start learning their manners from the wrong parent. Jensen comments that not being born yet may hinder their educational process but Jared insists that they can pick up habits in the womb. The only habits the babies have learned so far have been how to be awake at four in the morning, how to squirm and kick while Jared and Jensen are attempting to have sex, and how to make Jared vomit at the smell of cologne and any red meat. They have been a steak taco free household for a week now; Jensen may perish.

The tray of veggies that have been balancing on Jared’s belly this entire time is jostled by a strong kick that causes Jared to swear and grip onto the couch. He blames Jensen for waking them up.

A hand on Jared’s bare belly, with clockwise rubs, calms them and Jared down in a few minutes. Jensen touches carefully. The shape of Jared’s belly has changed. By now the trio hangs a little lower, in a shape closer to an oval than a circle. And true to all the books Jensen has read, the skin over Jared’s belly is stretched tight. Sometimes he can see a baby move. It is the scariest thing Jensen has ever seen—a tiny person is moving around in there, just rolling and jostling like that is its job. He likens it to Alien, which Jared has protested to countless times but Jensen’s opinion has not changed.

“I also want to play drums,” Jared murmurs with his eyes closed. Nap time.

Jensen will go get the wedge from their bedroom and situate Jared on the couch so he can sleep on his side instead of sitting up. Then he’ll start making dinner and Misha and Rhonda should be over by seven. Hannah and Linda are on vacation until tomorrow, somewhere up North in Caramel. Jeff is in Los Angeles wrapping up a Cher and Madonna drag show. It’s four now and Temple of Doom is halfway through. He knows Jared wants to be woken up for The Last Crusade but no one wants to watch Crystal Skull. There’s a rom-com Jared wants to see but he owes Jensen for the three blow jobs at six this morning—he promised Jensen they’d get to watch _The Sundance Kid_.

Each baby is at nearly six pounds.

The veggie tray is set aside on the coffee table and a light blanket put in its place. Together, they shift Jared over.

“What else?”

“Mmm… I wanna travel.”

“Yeah?”

“Jen…” Jared pauses but he looks up at Jensen from his place on the couch. Sleep is in his eyes but he’s staying awake for what he needs to say. “I don’t… I wanna have my own life, too.”

There are going to be four a.m. feedings instead of kicks. There are going to be diapers and spit ups and crawling and baby proofed outlets and tables and stairs. There is going to be exhaustion and the need for sleep and the need for alone, adult time. There will be days when three seems overwhelming and there will be times when nothing eases the crying. There’s going to be teething and weaning and potty training and learning how to share.

But there’s going to be four of them.

And they’ll all have to learn how to ask for help; how to ask for a break.

Somehow, all of that is going to happen. Jensen knows it will.

He also knows that he isn’t going to let Jared handle it all by himself. He won’t make Jared stay home with the babies just because Jared gave birth to them. They are all going to give Jared the opportunity to become his own person outside of daddy, partner, and friend.

“I can teach you how to play drums,” Jensen says and cards his fingers through Jared’s hair.

 

He’ll try to teach Jared anything he wants to know.

And what he can't, he’ll be there to support Jared anyway.


	60. Chapter 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen receives a phone call from Santa Monica.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on a roll! please let me know what you think. <3 nearing the end and wrapping up a few loose ends.

In the beginning of his pregnancy, before he found Linda, Jared saw a small team of doctors. Since he was uninsured and not a California resident, he bounced back and forth until he met with Diane at the agency. Each doctor was convinced that Jared wouldn’t make it past thirty-two weeks. They were also dead set on scheduling the c-section because according to them, the natural birth of triplets was too risky.

At thirty six weeks, Jared is triumphant.

He’s also miserable.

“I’m never going through this again,” he whines from the living room.

“You just said—two days ago—that you want more kids,” Misha calls out. He is in the kitchen finishing baking an apple pie. Jensen can smell it as he walks in from his run.

“No!” Jared insists dramatically. “Jensen can have the next batch, I’m _done_.”

Before Jensen can chime in that he would gladly go through pregnancy just to make Jared be the one running to McDonald’s at two in the morning for nine months, his phone rings. The number is a Santa Monica area code but Jensen doesn’t recognize it. Still, could be important, so he steps back outside to answer it. Jared and Misha are bantering back and forth about whether or not Misha should bake a chocolate cake in addition to the pie.

The entire conversation is over in ten minutes but Jensen sits on the front step for a little while after it.

So far, the plan is to hospitalize Jared at thirty-seven weeks—three days from now. They’ve had hospital bags packed since week thirty-three. Linda promises not to induce labor as long as Jared isn’t in too much discomfort; Picotin has side effects that the triplets may be more sensitive to. If there’s no medical need to rush them, the babies are free to take their time. But Linda wants Jared in the hospital before the big day so they don’t have to rush to it. This way, she hopes, Jared will become more familiar with the delivery room and some of the staff he doesn’t already know.

One of Linda’s colleagues will be in the delivery room for assistance. Every multiple birth is treated as a high risk pregnancy, even in cases like Jared’s where there have—thankfully—been no complications. Jared sat down with Linda last week and asked her to support his decision to try a natural birth for all three babies. No anesthesia, no c-sections. He did his research; all six of them did.

She asked him if he was completely sure about it. When she got Jared’s answer she nodded and gave him a hug. Any sign of trouble for the babies or Jared and she won’t hesitate to swoop in; but she agreed to respect what Jared’s choice.

Jensen stands up and runs a hand through his hair.

Last week, the mice informed Rhonda that one of the Casey Jr. ladies filed a sexual harassment grievance about Jerry. Within two days Jerry was walked out in handcuffs. Suits are still lurking and trying to smooth things over with everyone else. That was the last thing Jensen heard about Disney or anything Storybook related.

Well, until now.

“Punzel? What’s wrong?” Jared struggles to sit up when Jensen walks into the living room. Jensen helps out in the end so Jared doesn’t get out of breath. Misha waits in the kitchen doorway, concerned but giving them a little space. Jensen sits down next to Jared on the same couch they usually occupy nowadays. In these past few weeks Jared has gradually gone from being able and having the energy to walk to the park and back, to around the block, to around the house. Linda brought over the pregnancy suit last week and added weights onto it to replicate Jared at thirty-six weeks. Jensen survived it because he got to see Jeff try the damn thing on too.

Long fingers lace together with his. A gentle squeeze is given. Jensen squeezes back. When he heard about Jerry he wasn’t as thrilled as he thought he would be.

“Mr. Yamamoto just called,” Jensen starts out, words having trouble making their way out of his mouth. “Uh… I guess… Antonio gave him my number and…” Misha comes over and presses a glass of cold water into Jensen’s hands. He takes a sip before continuing. “He offered me a job.”

When Rhonda mentioned Mr. Yamamoto had his own private gardens, Jensen thought that maybe he had a large backyard that was nothing but flowers and plants. He would have never imagined that the private garden was actually a rooftop community garden in downtown Santa Monica.

Mr. Yamamoto owns the entire three storey building—the first floor is a visitor’s center, the second is his personal home, and the third is for storage and supplies. For the past twenty years he has maintained the gardens with some help from the seniors at the nearby senior center. But in recent years interest in the gardens has grown. He asks for the same five dollar donation that he did five years ago but has been making twice the money. What initially started out as a hobby has grown into a successful business. He wants to start classes for the seniors; he wants to do weekend classes for children. The goal isn’t financial.

“He needs someone young around,” Jensen says, shock still in his tone. “Someone who clips a little faster than he can.”

The job wouldn’t start for another six months. Antonio has been helping out on his time off and can manage to do so until fall. Pay would be fifteen an hour for thirty-five hours a week. Mr. Yamamoto has an old friend who established the gardens as a certified nonprofit seven years ago. Jensen would be on an actual payroll and in time earn benefits.

Would he be available in six months?

“Fuck yes!” Jared yips and smacks a kiss to Jensen’s cheek.

No one mentions anything about the swearing.


	61. Chapter 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There isn't much time to linger with the what if's. Jensen focuses on what will always be instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go! :D
> 
> next chapter will have a birth scene--head's up right now. this is an mpreg fic, in case you forgot, and you'll just have to go with it. this is just a thing that happens. suspend belief for a while longer, okay? XD
> 
> the poem here is "it is here" by harold pinter. a poem that totally made me cry when i first read it and i knew i had to work it in this fic. i already have poems and songs selected for the sequel too and i was bawling earlier. good signs! 
> 
> okay, onward! <333

Two days before their move into the hospital, Jared is surprised with a baby shower.

That night, after so many pieces of cake and appreciative tears, they go to bed relaxed and warm. Jared gives Jensen a back rub despite the achy state of his hands. Thirty-seven weeks means the most discomfort and the most rest. Well, almost.

It’s still dark out when Jensen is woken up.

Is something wrong?

“Want you,” Jared whispers. The streetlight filters through the blinds and drapes over their bed. Four thirty in the morning used to be so lonely. Jensen would get up without knowing why; he would toss and turn until five and restlessly lie in bed wondering why insomnia chose to strike right then and there. Alone with his thoughts he would go over his mistakes. He would play the scenes from _before_ and wonder what he could possibly do to start over again. What kind of mold could he fit himself into that he hadn’t already tried? How much more of his original self could he extinguish and snuff out until it was enough? Those used to be his nights. He thinks of them as practice now.

Practice for this. For this person that has shared his bed for what seems like years but has only been months. For this person who snores and hogs the blankets and sometimes talks in their sleep. For the person looking at him now, propped up against pillows, who smells like sweet, fresh vanilla and baby powder.

Jensen cups Jared’s face.

His touch is leaned into, sought after.

Not just needed.

Funny to think about their first time. How far away that seems right now on the edge of all things. And still he asks—is this okay? He doesn’t want to hurt him; never and especially not this close to the end. Dimples flash and Jensen knows from his thumb on Jared’s cheek that he’s blushing. The reply is made in a hushed but simple tone. More than okay.

Will it always be like this?

Is he always going to wake up and crave the exquisite curve of this mouth? Will it always be like this? Can it always be like this? Just… just like this.

“Just like this,” Jared echoes. “Jen, just like this.”

It didn’t have to mean anything. It was just a kiss. And it didn’t have to go anywhere or become anything more than a free sundae with a newbie coworker. It all could have ended there. Few things frighten Jensen. He kills the spiders and unclogs the sink and he really isn’t afraid of dying. He is more afraid of the things that might never have happened. His hands grip Jared’s thighs. Jared rides him, grinding their cocks together, working himself over and around and on top of Jensen.

What if he hadn’t moved out here…

What if Jensen had never strayed from deceptive words and manipulative masks…

What if Jensen had been Jared’s next door neighbor…

What if Jared had pushed him away on the balcony that day.

A million and one things could have not happened.

He will never take for granted that they did.

Jared likes steak tacos with extra cheese and cherry popsicles and green Jell-O and white Belgian beers and staying out in the sun until the tip of his nose starts to get red. He likes to sleep on his right side or on his stomach and he likes to go grocery shopping at ten at night when there’s no one in the store. He likes classic rock and country but he also likes pop music but he’d never tell anyone that outright. He prefers trains to cars but likes to walk if he can. He likes baking but isn’t a fan of cooking but he’s always had to do it so he has gotten good at it. He likes bow tie pasta with red sauce and enchiladas with green sauce and likes Cream Pan more than is healthy. He likes all the weight he’s gained and he likes the shade of blue Jensen picked for their room in their new home.

He likes it when Jensen kisses him.

When Jensen trails his mouth further down and wraps his lips around one peaked nipple. He likes that. He likes feeling how hard Jensen is against him. He likes squeezing Jensen’s upper arms and feeling the muscles there.

The hitches of Jared’s breath, the small noises he makes in the back of his throat, the gasps, the soft moans and contrasting hisses as Jensen pushes into him.

Are you okay?

Fine. _Good_.

You’re sure?

I’ll show you.

“Oh,” Jensen exhales and feels himself liquefy. He pushes up, his hands on Jared’s hips to steady them. The bed makes the same noises it always does—the thud of the headboard as Jared pistons himself up and down the thickness of Jensen’s cock is soothing. A little more lube. A little less pressure. Jared lifts and pushes down, tossing his head back, his shoulders trembling. He reaches out and Jensen reaches back. Their hands lace together and Jensen helps Jared keep his balance.

The underside of Jared’s belly bumps against Jensen’s middle. Jared’s thighs tremble. He starts to move faster when his shoulders start to tremble. Close. Close. Oh, please.

This is the last time they’ll be like this for a while. Jensen has spent more than one conversation in these past few weeks reassuring Jared that not having sex for the eight weeks after the big day will not kill him, lead him to stray, or cause a rift in their relationship. It’s okay.

Pulsing and clenching on his cock, Jared comes. He doesn’t lift himself off and he doesn’t make too much noise. His hands are on Jensen’s thighs as he fucks himself tilting back. Jensen punches out a breath when he feels a gush of warm liquid surround his cock. Jared whimpers and starts riding Jensen harder, pushing his hips down with more force and rotating them in tight circles. Sweat forms on both their brows. Jensen grips Jared’s cock and strokes it roughly. Ropes of come spurt out over and over again until Jared gently pushes Jensen’s hand away.

For a minute, Jared rests. His belly heaves with the effort but he wants it this way. He doesn’t want to be fucked from behind or on his side. He wants Jensen’s eyes on him and his eyes on Jensen.

Will it always be this hot?

“Ah…” Jensen loses it.

That’s what happens when their eyes meet. He gets that spark. It ignites a different heart beat.

He comes as deep as he can inside Jared.

Jared doesn’t pull off right away. He slumps forward a little but refuses to separate. Not yet. Let me have you like this just a little while longer. Please.

Jensen sweeps Jared’s hair out of his face and cradles his jaw line. The bed is wet. They are sticky. The room smells like sex. This is the first time they’ve had sex without a condom on. Jared holds them together as their breathing gradually becomes less erratic.

It’s always going to be like this.

Maybe not exactly the same. Things will change. They will change.

“What sound was that?” Jensen whispers. His voice is scratchy. “I turn away, into the shaking room.” He runs his hand through Jared’s hair and makes a mess of it once more. “What was that sound that came in on the dark?” He presses each of his thumbs into each of Jared’s dimples. “What is this maze of light it leaves us in? What is this stance we take, to turn away and then turn back? What did we hear?”

His hands move down. He places one above Jared’s heart and the other on his belly.

He looks up. Jared smiles.

“It was the breath we took when we first met.”

Just like this.

“Listen. It is here.”

He’ll never run out of poems.

 

The next day the wake up slow and lazy and grateful. All either of them has to do is reach and the other is there. It’s a simple thing, maybe, but to Jensen it’s everything.

It’s one day before they take the hospital bags and themselves over there to stay for a while.

At eleven, they brush their teeth side by side and Jared pokes the hickey Jensen left on his chest. He pokes Jensen’s face and pokes Jensen’s nose. Then he grabs Jensen’s hand and pulls him into the shower and gives him a massage, a blow job, and a kiss in that order.

Blissed out, happy and warm, Jensen lies in bed for another hour while Jared walks around the house. His back hurts a lot today. The support strap doesn’t work anymore. Hopefully walking will alleviate the pressure on his lower back and pelvis. He talks to Jensen from the kitchen, where he drinks three out of five of his containers of water in an hour and eats two bagels, an apple, and a small slice of cake. From the bathroom as he pees, he tells Jensen that he feels nauseous but it’s not the kind of nauseous that he’s used to. And the babies are actually asleep still and not on a rampage through Jared’s internal organs.

At noon, Jared makes them lunch and brings it to bed, where he passes pieces of a sandwich to Jensen, who refuses to get up yet. Their bed smells like them and fabric softener. He inhales deeply and buries his face in his pillow once more. The sound of Jared’s voice as he talks about how pretty California is mid-April lulls him into a doze.

Familiar fingers card through Jensen’s hair.

The last thing Jensen hears before drifting off is Jared humming to a tune.

 

“Jen.”

“…”

“Jensen.”

“…”

“Punzel.”

“Huh.”

“Wake up, baby.”

“No.”

“Get up, sleepyhead.”

“G’way.”

“Well, okay…”

“No. Hmph. Stay.”

“Nope. Can’t.”

“Huh? Wha? Why?”

“Cause my water broke.”

“Jared!”

“It’s kind of gross, actually. I owe you new sheets.”

“Jared! What the…”

“It totally was a splash, by the way.”

 

Jensen falls off the bed.

“Punzel, you fell from your tower,” Jared laughs but freezes. “Oh… _shit_.”

That is when the contractions start.


	62. Chapter 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared surprises them and doesn't punch Jensen during delivery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for a birth scene, proceed knowing that. 
> 
> AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
> 
> /runs around screaming/
> 
> guys, i slept four hours and woke up to write this. eeeeeeee. /cries/
> 
> okay, i'm not someone who has given birth. i know some of y'all have and i hope that i did the experience some justice here. i didn't go into a ton of detail but i did want it to come across as authentic. hopefully i pulled it off.
> 
> natural births for triplets has a good success rate if the parent has good access to health care and nutrition. you can even do a home birth with triplets and have no major problems. bodies are fucking amazing. 
> 
> i never started this thinking this fic would grow into something almost 100k words long! you guys have kept me going. thank you. <3 this fic means so much to me, more than just being something i worked on. it's healed me at the same time and well, i hope it's done something good for you too.
> 
> okay enough rambling, go!

Jared:

All three doctors he saw before Linda laughed in his face when he asked if delivery was possible without a c-section. Then they also laughed when he asked what the longest was for someone to carry triplets and could he possibly see past thirty-two weeks.

No one believed him when he said he was going to see at least thirty-two, if not thirty-five.

He makes it to thirty-seven and a day—take that.

And it’s all because of the person running through the house right now in a panic. Okay, so Jared will admit that he might have done alright on his own. He might have made it to thirty weeks because he wasn’t doing too badly at twenty. Maybe he’s been stupid and ridiculous about other things in his life but he wasn’t going to fuck this up. He sat his butt down at the library and in bookstores and read and took notes and made charts. The majority of his paychecks went to fresh, organic food and the junk food he couldn’t help craving. It upset him with he would throw it up later on but he forced himself to eat even on the days he didn’t even want to touch it.

For the first five months he measured himself, took a few pictures, and tried his best to believe in something better, if not for himself, then for them.

And wouldn’t you know it? Something better came along for all of them.

Jensen thinks Jared saved him. Saved him from loneliness, from isolation, from a bitter heart and a cynical mind.

But c’mon, Punzel, this is your story, you know how it goes.

Punzel saved him right back.

 

“Calm down, the first stage can take hours.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in labor?!”

“I didn’t know! I thought it was gas!”

“Should you be eating?!”

“I’m pregnant, Jensen, not dying!”

“Where’s Mr. Bun?”

“In the first blue bag.”

“Okay. Okay. I called my mom. You texted the guys. Can you text Rhonda?”

“You already did. Oh, is there more cake?”

“I can’t remember where I put your phone charger.”

“It’s fine, I won’t need it, Jen. I’ll be giving birth, not taking selfies. Hey, are you gonna record it?”

“Huh? Take smaller bites. Okay, where’s _my_ phone charger? I don’t know, do you want me to?”

“Don’t think you’ll be able to. But I do want pictures. Linda said a nurse could do it. Jen, you packed it!”

“Are you sure? I don’t… oh, here it is.”

“…”

“Jared?”

“…”

“Jared!”

First stage of labor? It’s supposed to last hours, especially in a first time pregnancy and with multiples. Linda said as long as he’s able to, he should eat as many complex carbs as possible for energy. He’s eaten his way through some leftover whole grain pancakes, a whole wheat bagel, and some slices of turkey for protein. Oh, and a tiny piece of cake. But halfway through some roasted potatoes Jensen baked the night before, he feels something different. It’s a contraction, which causes him to clutch the counter in pain but it’s also something else. He took a quick shower with Jensen after his water broke and that helped the pain in his lower back so he assumed…

“Oh my god!” Jared screams and pounds his fist on the counter. He can feel a baby wiggling around at a different, much lower place than he’s used to. The next time Jared opens his eyes and he’s in the backseat of the car with his legs spread and a clean towel underneath him. He better not give birth in the car. They did _not_ do all this planning and take Lamaze and childbirth classes and bounce around on those medicine balls just to have a baby plop out whenever and wherever it feels like.

Noise is encouraged because it helps his breathing remain as stable and natural as possible so Jared is grunting and moaning in the backseat while Jensen drives the five miles to the hospital. Doctor Linda has been called and she assures them she’ll meet them in the delivery room. Check-in at the ER where they’ll take him to the maternity ward, straight to his delivery room, number 382. Jared tries to remind himself that even though it feels like he’s being knifed from the inside out and contractions are two minutes apart now, what is about to happen has been happening since the dawn of time. He isn’t the first person to try for a natural delivery of multiples and he won’t be the last. His body knows what to do: Jensen said so. If he can’t trust his body, he can trust Jensen.

“Don’t breathe so hard,” Jensen says as he helps him out of the car and into a wheelchair.

“Trying,” he replies shakily, in between contractions. “Don’t… you’re… you’re not gonnna leave, right?”

“Why would I leave?” Jensen tosses his keys to the valet they know and wheels Jared into the ER.

“I don’t know,” he cries, holding his belly, shifting in the wheelchair, trying to spread his legs. “It’s not gonna be pretty. Oh god, oh god…!” This contraction winds him. A baby socks him in the ribs. Jared feels like yelling at everyone in the ER to shut the fuck up. One of the intake nurses is giving Jensen an issue because they didn’t call ahead.

“I will _walk_ my pregnant ass up to my fucking room if you don’t _listen_ to my boyfriend and let us through,” Jared snaps, making direct eye contact with the nurse. “Do it!”

“You have to fill out…”

Just when Jared is about to release hell on this nurse, Jensen pushes him forward in the wheelchair and slips past the ER doors towards the maternity ward when a doctor opens it to let someone else in. That is how, halfway to the maternity ward, two security officers follow them and they run into Linda who starts handing the security guards their asses about causing _her_ patient a delay. Everyone in their group is capable of snapping and going a little crazy but Jared never thought, as he huffs and puffs in the wheelchair, that he’d see the day when Linda completely lost it. Huh. Good for her.

Lucidity is interrupted by a strong kick from the baby sitting and lolling around in his pelvis.

After that, things are kind of a blur. Jared knows he’s wheeled into a large, airy room with a bay window and light pink wallpaper. It doesn’t look like a hospital room at all, which surprises him. He isn’t sure how they get him onto a bed, out of his clothes, and into a gown but he is sure of the moment when Jensen leaves his side. His blood pressure rises in those two minutes; Linda assures him it’s just to get Jensen into a pair of scrubs. A flurry of people Jared half recognizes flock into the room but none are Jensen.

His belly is checked by Linda and he’s placed into stirrups, sitting up in the bed. Before she checks him she introduces and explains everyone’s role in the room quickly. A contraction hits halfway through but Jared gives a thumbs up. Fine. Everyone is here. Except for…

“Don’t leave me again,” Jared cries and reaches out for one scrub clad Jensen. Even as Linda is poking around between his legs and the babies are squirming and another contraction is on the way and he’s being hooked up to a heart monitor, this thought passes through his mind: Jensen looks hot in scrubs.

Soon enough, Jared is screaming and Linda is encouraging him to get it all out. The stirrups are lowered and Jared is told that they’ll be assuming birth position in a few minutes.

“You got lucky,” Linda says cheerfully, wiping Jared’s sweaty and tear soaked face. “Eight and a half centimeters dilated. They’re coming out today.”

“Good!” Jared grits out, gripping onto Jensen’s hand. “I’m… sick… of… free rent!”

In the time they wait for the centimeter a half that’s left, the staff in the room check his blood pressure again and the presentation of the babies. Everyone is thankfully still head down. Jared hears a bunch of words he swears he’s heard Jensen lecture about but none of it matters when he feels something in the pit of his stomach.

Jared knows everyone bet on him being the kind of partner who screamed and cursed at Jensen and told him it was all his fault and to get out. But he is the total opposite of that, which surprises them both.

“You can do this.” Green eyes are determined and focused and concerned. “It’s all you.”

“What if I can’t?” Jared cries as Linda, Jensen, and another nurse are helping him move. Midway through a contraction, the strongest of the bunch, Jared lets out a scream that hurts his own ears. It’s then that Linda announces the need for Jared to start walking. Walking? What the fuck? He isn’t doing a marathon here, he’s trying… “Fuck!”

“It’ll help those contractions and speed things up, hopefully,” she adds and instructs Jensen to hold both of Jared’s hands and walk him around the room. Nurses detach Jared from the cuff and the heart monitors after Linda checks his vitals again. She presses her hands on Jared’s belly, which hurts, and gives the final okay. Once again on his feet, Jared is not happy. He wants to be on the bed and he wants everyone to vacate his insides, _please_. He can hear himself blurt out to Jensen—what if they never leave? Oh god, what if he is pregnant forever?! What if…

“Focus,” Jensen says firmly and squeezes Jared’s hands.

“You focus,” Jared snaps back but doesn’t pull away when Jensen bumps their noses together. Holy shit. Jensen places one hand on the underside of his belly—always a favorite place of Jared’s—and he keeps their noses pressed together. With his eyes closed, Jensen takes in and exhales two deep breaths. Jared can feel Jensen working at breathing. The chaos of the rest of the room disappears when Jared closes his eyes and tries his best to match his breathing with Jensen’s. He cries when another contraction punches through him and another soon after follows.

But it’s that moment. Nose to nose, forehead to forehead, hand in hand…

He’d do this all over again.

All of it.

He would leave Texas every time to get on a dirty Greyhound bus and wander around Anaheim before getting the courage to knock on his brother’s door. He would spend every single one of those nights sleeping on a bus stop bench or at a shelter. He would apply all over again to Disney and serve ice cream to cranky, pushy guests until his arm felt like falling off. And he would say yes when it didn’t mean anything for him and he would ask Sue for a ride to the hospital after two weeks of throwing up nonstop. He would cry and stay up at night, alone and sad and worried.

He’d request that transfer and follow that scene kid to Casey Jr. and Dumbo and Storybook until they found one grumpy looking cast member holding a lost child.

The contraction after that image in his mind disrupts all thoughts. All of a sudden this is happening too fast. He won’t be four anymore. He won’t have them this near to him ever again.

“Push when you’re ready,” Linda calls out. They’ve maneuvered him into two different positions and chosen the one that Jared feels the least amount of discomfort in. Squatting down, holding onto Jensen’s shoulders, Jared hesitates. He isn’t ready. How could anyone possibly be ready?

Familiar hands frame his face.

“C’mon,” Jensen says, tears in his eyes. “Don’t make me do the Mickey voice.”

 

Labor and delivery in the movies is totally not how this happens. No way, no sir, no how.

It’s messy and bloody and _loud_. Jared screams against Jensen for the entire first part. And okay, he was waxing poetic about the miracle of life and all that stuff before but there is nothing weirder than feeling something the size of a watermelon being squeezed and pushed out through something the size of a lemon— _and_ that something is wiggling the entire time.

Linda has him reach down first.

“First one is crowning,” she says from behind him. “You’re all doing just fine, Jared. No distress, no irregular heartbeats, no hemorrhaging, and no tearing.”

Pushing is encouraged when he feels the need to bear down and not before. He is instructed by Linda and Jensen to stop holding his breath and try to breathe as naturally and deeply as possible. What is taking this baby so long? Doesn’t it want out? He can feel the head and that’s great—holy shit, that’s so weird—but the rest of this baby and its siblings are more than welcome to get the show on the road.

“Feel right here,” he hears Linda say to Jensen. “There you go, dad. How’s it feel?”

“Strange,” Jensen replies honestly. “How much longer?”

“What?!” Jared can’t help but snap. “You got somewhere to be?!”

“Yes, yes I do.”

“Don’t… don’t joke around… I’m… oh fuck!” He sinks his hands into the muscles in Jensen’s arms and exhales on a push so sudden and forceful his eyes roll back. There is no break after that, no time out for him because the baby has decided to take advantage of this new slip and slide. Jared feels himself simultaneously expand and contract. He screams his way through it, wrapping his arms around  Jensen’s shoulders, and he feels Linda tilt his hips slightly.

“And we have Baby A,” is proudly declared but Jared can’t celebrate like everyone else. He is exhausted and in pain and who the hell convinced him to do this without any drugs? Was it Jensen? If it was, Jensen is a dead man. Drugs right now would be wonderful. Actually, if he could just fall asleep and have everything taken care of for him that would be great.

“He’s healthy,” Jared hears Jensen cry. “Jared, he’s perfect.”

“A seven pound whopper,” Linda adds. “How you doing, Jared?”

A boy?

Somewhere, Jared read that multiples often come twenty minutes apart. He wants to hold his son and get a drink of water and…

“Let’s get daddy some water,” Linda directs to a nurse. “Baby B is on its way!”

 

Jared almost passes out.

He doesn’t.

There is a hand on his face and another one rubbing the small of his back.

That feels so good.

 

Baby C, the last baby and the smallest, which was the last to turn and the first to give Jared trouble all these months, takes its sweet time. Both of its siblings were born in the first hour, ten minutes apart. After half an hour of waiting, Linda starts to manipulate the baby with her hands on Jared’s belly. Jared begins to panic—what’s wrong? Why is it taking so long? He hears Jensen voice this concern and the tone in Jensen’s voice doesn’t reassure him.

Something’s wrong.

Jared slumps against Jensen and he can feel his whole body tremble and pressure readjust itself from his belly all the way down. Just as a cart is being wheeled over to them, ready to intervene, Baby C drops.

“One last push,” Jensen murmurs into his ear. “Just one more.”

“Easy… for you… to say,” Jared pants.

 

A kiss to his forehead follows right after.

This is a good man.


	63. Chapter 63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The babies arrive, so does the rest of their family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /wails/
> 
> okay, okay... 
> 
> the song i chose is "where your road leads" by trisha yearwood. go listen to it. go! it makes me ugly cry every time i hear it and think of this fic.
> 
> a brief epilogue is after this and then i'm onto the sequel. but that's for later because i am late for work! 
> 
> omg y'all... please comment! please! let me know i'm not the only one ugly crying here. ;w;
> 
> it's always hard on me when a fic ends, but especially this one.

Jared successfully and naturally gives birth to triplets on a sunny Tuesday afternoon on April fifteenth.

Less than a minute after they’re born, Jensen gets to hold them.

He cuts each cord and doesn’t pass out. Linda pats him on the back. The placentas are delivered soon after the last triplet and she clears Jared from any complications. A mess to be sure, but hey, Jensen can always help clean up.

From the moment Bailey is placed into Jensen’s arms, he feels it.

Oh, he's so done for.

This is more love than he ever thought possible.

Within the hour, Bailey latches on and starts feeding. Jared cries. Jensen has to confess that he does too.

Two hours after and the babies are kept in the room with Jared, where they have been gently washed and are being monitored. None of the babies need oxygen or any additional help. Their body temperatures adjust as soon as they are held and nursed. Linda encourages as much bonding time as possible. They are wrinkly and squirmy but Jensen can’t get enough of them.

The rest of their family bursts in with flowers and balloons and tears and kisses and hugs. Jensen can’t possibly capture what goes on.

Bailey Ross Padalecki-Collins is the oldest brother of two identical twin sisters. He weighs in at a robust seven pounds even.

Hailey Hannah Padalecki-Collins is the oldest twin sister and weighs in at six and a half pounds.

Kaylee Marie Padalecki-Collins is Miss Diva and weighs in at a still impressive six pounds four ounces.

Thirty pink, chubby fingers and toes get all the attention in the world.

And that’s how it’s always going to be.

 

“Did you bring it?”

“Yeah, Rhonda brought it over.”

“We get to stick around for this, right?”

Jensen tunes his guitar in the hallway.

“Sure.”

 

Six hours after birth and each baby has been fed and takes turns napping with Jared, who is recovering well. His blood pressure is on the low side but he’s able to keep down the juice and water that has been given to him every hour. Rest is the most important thing now.

Each baby was born with a small tuft of dark brown hair. And even though their eye color might change, Baylie’s are the clearest blue. Misha coos that he is Baylie Blue.

As Jared rested in those six hours, everyone came around and congratulated Jensen. Misha and Jeff thanked him. Rhonda asked if she should prepare shotguns for them.

His mother walked over after holding Haylee and Kaylee and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“Mom,” he sighs with a smile, “I’ve cried enough today.”

“It never stops,” she sniffs and dabs at her eyes then embraces him tightly. “Baby, it never ever stops.”

 

Eight hours old and the babies get to hear Jensen’s guitar in the outside world. Hailey started crying after her nap but the strums on his guitar and Jared’s touch soothes her. Curious eyes look up at the people holding them. Jared has Bailey, Misha holds Kaylee, and Jeff wrestles with Hailey. He has plans for these babies, he keeps saying, big plans with wigs and heels and makeup. These babies, Jeff insists, are made for the stage.

For now, there’s a simpler stage.

Linda hopes to have the babies going home with daddy in three days. They’ll spend the first week of their lives in Anaheim and then it’s out to Santa Monica. Hannah is taking two months off of work to help out and Rhonda has put in for vacation. Linda mentions that she would love to see the babies outside of the hospital, if they don’t mind. She holds Hannah’s hand as she asks Jared, Jensen, Misha, and Jeff.

“Of course,” Jared says happily with a yawn. “Anytime.”

Their party of ten settles down.

Jensen plays softly. He’s practiced these chords but this is his first time singing this.

He sits next to Jared’s bed. Pictures are taken but Jensen knows he’s never going to forget this. He will always think back to this moment, when each baby is being held by someone who loves and will always love them unconditionally.

This is a song he found a while back. It’s not the most popular one and it’s not perfect. It’s a little dark and it recognizes that there won’t always be sunshine and clear skies. But that’s why Jensen likes it.

His voice is clear and light.

“I believe in miracles. I believe that mountains move one prayer at a time. If I could be an angel, I’d make your every wish come true. But I am only human, just one man lovin’ you.” He looks up to gauge the reception. Is this too much?

“Oh, Punzel,” Jared cries for the hundredth time today.

Jensen continues. “If we can love forever that won’t be long enough for me. I wanna hold you tender, be your shelter, all you need.” His voice picks up. He tries to keep it and his hands as steady as possible. “Where your road leads, I will follow. When your heart bleeds, I’ll be there for you. When your night grows dark and you can’t find your tomorrow then you can follow me.” The last few chords are played and the final lines are sung bare. “Where your road leads, I will follow. When you’ve lost sight of your dreams, then you can follow me.”  

Not a dry big-person eye in the house.


	64. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One week later and moving day is here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /cries/

Epilogue

One Week Later:

They brought the triplets home on a Friday morning. Jeff drove the SUV with three car seats full of bundled up babies discovering their hands and feet, while Jensen drove his car and Rhonda drove Hannah’s in front of and behind Jeff. It’s a miracle any of the three cars went faster than ten miles an hour.

Newborns do not like schedules. Jared feels like a milking cow—a Texas longhorn, Jensen likes to tease.

Feeding time is every four hours.

Jensen can tell Bailey’s cries from his sister’s.

Bailey is Jensen’s and Jensen is Bailey’s.

Everyone knows that.

 

Remember that nap right before Jared went into labor? Jensen remembers it fondly, especially at five in the morning every morning when he’s trying to get Miss Diva to burp already.

Hannah shows them all how to change a diaper faster than drawing a gun. Bailey pees all over Rhonda.

In the middle of being rookie parents to three newborns, Jared and Jensen have to pack.

A small parade of drag queens arrives on a Saturday and announces themselves as the movers. Jensen has breast milk all over his shirt and he can feel a bruise forming on his jaw from where Hailey socked him with her tiny, angry fist as he tried to feed her while Jared slept. He lets four queens and a large guy named Roscoe into their home and quickly tries to calm Hailey down before she starts a riot amongst the other diaper-clad poop machines in cribs.

Within an hour, every box is carried out and hauled into a moving truck. One of the queens breaks a nail but she forgets all about it when she sees Miss Diva.

Holding Kaylee up, Lily White Towers declares that she has Jensen’s eyes.

Jensen quietly thanks her and smiles to himself.

 

The same method of driving will be used for the trip to Santa Monica.

All the little odds and ends they forgot earlier in the week are packed up in a carryon bag. Jared walks through the house to make sure they aren’t forgetting anything. In the kitchen, he cries out for Jensen to get him a towel—he’s leaking all over the place again, dammit.

Two shirts and an hour later, their party of ten gathers on the driveway.

Hannah will be staying in a guest bedroom for a few weeks until Jared has his strength back. Although there were no post-delivery complications, Jared is still exhausted. He looks a little paler and walks a little slower these days but that’s fine with Jensen as long as he _rests_. Resting does not mean getting up every time a baby starts crying. Jensen can do it.

He holds Bailey for a while before he has to pass him over to Jared for the car ride.

Bundled up in yellow blankets with ducks all over, Bailey Blue looks up at him with an expression of quiet seriousness—all the seriousness someone a week and a half old can muster. Jensen kisses his forehead and takes in a deep breath. Baby powder and vanilla.

They have to get going. There are nap and feeding schedules that can’t be disrupted and Jared has to get home to pump. Today is Misha and Jeff’s turn to experience diaper changes when it’s still dark out. It’s their turn for a few days now to handle poop and pee and wiggly butts that refuse to stay still on the changing table. Misha has banned Jeff from painting the girls’ nails until they are at least a year old.

Already a week has passed and Jensen thinks time is moving too fast.

It’s possible for someone to have more than one home.  He knows this, he does. But leaving hurts.

Excused from the group, he takes Bailey, and together they stand at the edge of the driveway nearest the street. Their position allows them a panoramic view.

Jensen breathes in and out, shakier than he expected.

He can always visit. This home will always be here for him and his family. Hannah wants to babysit and buy kitschy World’s Best Grandma shirts and to finally learn how to make pancakes properly.

Clearing his throat, Jensen nods over to Jared, who has been looking for him. Jared smiles and nods towards the car.

Time to go.

Time, time, time.

Bailey yawns and falls asleep in his arms.

 

Before they rejoin the rest of their family, Jensen whispers something for Bailey only.

“Don’t grow up too fast.”


	65. And Then...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What we have to look forward to in the sequel...!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [END.]
> 
> THANK YOU. <333
> 
> This is your sneak peak for my Big Bang entry. I'm entered on LJ under oobydooby67 and yes, lots more Punzel verse to follow. This will be an open verse just like Chicago verse. I'll be writing time stamps in the future. So don't worry--you get lots more. <3
> 
> See! I AM capable of happy fics! XD
> 
> Y'all are the best. Thank you.

And then…

Eleven years later, on Jensen’s thirty-second birthday, Jared bakes him a chocolate cake.

A party is thrown and several people leave a little too tipsy.

Jared lures Jensen into their bedroom.

 

After adult activities time, Jared sits up in bed, completely naked. He holds out his hands to Jensen.

“Pick one, Punzel,” Jared says, dimples out and his hair a mess.

 

Jensen stretches and picks Jared’s right hand.

A pair of newborn socks is revealed.

They celebrate two more times that night. Jensen can’t stop grinning.

 

Jared doesn’t tell him about the second pair of socks in his left hand until later.


End file.
